S'Brin
by Traycon 3 and Fishey Me
Summary: One crewmember becomes devoted to forbidden research and forever changes the lives of Spock and McCoy. SMc slash and adult concepts. You have been warned. Now complete with added subchapters in the prologue and chapter 5 Thirty Seconds Too Late.
1. Prologue

S'Brin 

Summary: One crewmember becomes devoted to forbidden research. This is the story of how even the most terrifying concepts and sudden changes can positively impact others.

Pairings: S/Mc, K/R (implied), S/Ch (one sided), and other minor characters –m/f and m/m.

Rating: K+ for swearing, slash, and adult concepts.

Disclaimer: I own Lieutenant Hernandez, S'Brin and Simon. However, Star Trek and all related characters belong to Paramount. Go them.

Archiving Information: Please, no archiving without my permission. Overarching permission goes to the Spock/McCoy Haven and BLTS. All others must ask.

_Author's Note_: The Prologue and a handful of other chapters will be told like my story "Once She Had Noticed," from the point of views of the three major female crewmembers, due to popular demand. Unlike that story, much of this story will be told in the omniscient third person, focusing on Spock and McCoy. This is by Fisheyme only, but Traycon3 has been a great sounding board for my ideas. Thanks T3!

* * *

Prologue 

**Janice:**

She gasped as she heard him raise his voice to Spock. It was so unlike him to raise his voice at all, much less to a man he admired as much as Mr. Spock. But Spock was unfazed, despite the swearing. Lieutenant Hernandez seethed.

"I don't understand sir. I've gone step by step over the procedure, what in the name of God is wrong with it? You've let lab techs do their own experiments before!"

"For one thing, Doctor McCoy has also told me about your intended experiment and what it entails. He has already denied your request to work in the medical labs."

"You out-rank him, sir. Surely you,"

"For another, I believe that your experiment, while laudable in goal, can easily be corrupted in practice. I cannot condone such a possibility occurring on this ship. I suggest you petition Star Fleet or some other research facility and conduct this research privately."

"Sir,"

"My decision stands, Mr. Hernandez."

Hernandez clenched his fists and scowled. "McCoy's an old fool! I'm sure he lathered his description of my experiment with backwards and conservative Southern bullshit! Look at this with an open mind, sir!"

She shifted her weight and looked at the captain. He didn't look pleased, but Spock was holding his own, so he didn't speak up.

"Doctor McCoy is as able a scientist as you or I," Even she could hear the slight edge of irritation creeping into Spock's tone, "and I judge your work without bias, but completely logically. My decision stands."

"You're just mad that I affronted your lover! Can't you see I'm trying to help people like you?"

"Jeraldo!" She gasped.

Spock stood to his full height. "Doctor McCoy and I are not lovers, Mister Hernandez. As for your 'help,'" Spock put his hands behind his back, "that is not a military matter. Again, I would recommend that you attempt to conduct this research in a private facility. Dismissed."

Hernandez glared at Spock for a minute, but then left.

She looked at Jim and wondered what he was thinking about all this. He was looking at Spock.

"What was he going on about, Mister Spock?"

"Mister Hernandez wishes to conduct research into means of producing offspring for same-sex parents. Hence his 'I'm trying to help people like you' declaration."

"Sounds pretty noble. Why are you denying it?"

She knew he was saying that just to make Spock look at other angles…

"The theory is laudable, Captain, much like communism."

She couldn't help but look at Chekov at the mention of something so… Russian.

"However, like communism, the practice is next to impossible when one factors in the human desire for a specific gender, race, hair color, eye color, genetic disposition for stamina…"

"You're suggesting the process might invariably lead to eugenics?"

"In essence."

She shuddered as she remembered Kahn: so handsome and yet so cruel.

"I see." Jim said, nodding. "Alright then."

She felt something in her gut tell her that this wasn't the end of this problem… But she couldn't bring up the courage to say anything. She was just a yeoman, who would believe her?

* * *

Jeraldo looked at the data on his terminal. If he could just determine one variable… It could work if only he just, but no. It didn't matter. No one would let him do this. No one wanted him to do this.

God, Spock was blind, Jeraldo knew it. If he would stop being so worked up about that damned cracker he would surely see all the potential for new life. Surely he had to see…

This was all McCoy's fault! If he would stop toying with the Vulcan: teasing him, praising him one minute and bullying him the next, jerking his chain and never giving him a moment's peace. Didn't he have any idea what he was doing to Spock? All the science staff could see the way their chief could be worked up sometimes for weeks about one quip that the doctor spat in one argument. It wasn't fair that Spock could be so infernally devoted to someone who obviously hated him.

Jeraldo growled and slammed his fist into the glassy screen of his computer. A long web-like pattern remained in place when he pulled his hand away. It hadn't really hurt. A thin triangle of sharp glass fell out of the monitor.

"Oh, what a tangled web we weave," he muttered, idly fingering the shard. His finger began to bleed. "Why won't they let me bring life? I'm no spider… I won't eat my own young. No, the spider is the one who tastes the blood of trapped prey."

He lifted the glass into his hand, admiring the sharp, stained edges.

"Spock to Mr. Hernandez."

"Here, sir," Jeraldo breathed, looking wistfully at his own blood.

"Please report to Medical Lab 6."

"Si, senor."

He stood and walked out of the oppressive dark of his quarters, clenching the glass in his fist.

Ffft, ffft. Softly, dark spots appeared on the red carpet in the corridor as the _Enterprise_ consumed the last remnants of the man he used to be.

"Down came the rain and the spider washed him out," Hernandez hummed as he walked into the medical lab.

"Ensign DeSoto forgot to wear her gloves and was injured," Spock said, not bothering to look up from his monitor. "Will you assist me in completing her experiment?"

Jeraldo nodded and sat at the terminal, but all he could see was the data he could never present. "Dead in the womb."

"What was that, Lieutenant?" Spock asked, not looking up.

"All our hopes are dead in the womb because of a careless surgeon… There's nothing left. No life," he trailed off.

Jeraldo opened his hand and saw the glass shard, like an iceberg floating in a red sea. He lifted it in his fingers and opened up a red river down his forearm.

"Drink up, little spider," Hernandez whispered as tears escaped from his eyes.

"Mr. Hernandez?" Spock asked, looking over at the lieutenant. "Are you well?"

Jeraldo sobbed. His family would hate him. This was his only chance to do anything good for them. "Ivan was depending on me."

Spock looked over at the human's trembling shoulders. "Is your brother's name not Ivan?"

Jeraldo didn't respond. His blood was running slowly. He tried to move the glass to his other hand, but his fingers were slick and sticky and his hand couldn't grip it. His tears mingled with his blood and the glass slipped to the floor.

When Spock stood to note Hernandez's condition, he was overwhelmed by the amount of blood. Reigning in his astonishment, Spock walked calmly to the comm. panel in the wall and depressed the button.

"Spock to Sickbay, emergency in Medical Lab 6. Mr. Hernandez has injured himself and is bleeding heavily."

"I'll be right down." McCoy replied.

"¡No¡Guarde esa araña lejos de mí!" Hernandez yelled.

"Why did you do this, Mr. Hernandez?" Spock asked, seizing the lieutenant's arm and pressing a pressure point.

"No," Hernandez pleaded, "No, it isn't worth it. My blood isn't on your hands. Let the butcher cut me up, I don't want to be put me back together again. I've had such a great fall."

"Butcher, fall? You are not making any sense. Stop struggling, you will lose more blood."

"I KNOW! Let me go!" But Hernandez was too weak to struggle. He continued to sob.

McCoy and Chapel rushed into the lab. McCoy took Hernandez's arm from Spock. "Good God, Jeraldo, what have you done?"

Hernandez gripped McCoy's forearm with his other hand. "I am innocent of this man's blood," he spat, his wild eyes blazing. "It is your responsibility."

McCoy looked down at the blood all over his hands. Chapel handed him a bandage, a look of concern apparent in her eyes.

* * *

Spanish for non-Spanish speakers: 

¡No¡Guarde esa araña lejos de mí! – No! Keep that spider away from me!


	2. Genius and Insanity

**S'Brin**

Summary: One crewmember becomes devoted to forbidden research. This is the story of how even the most terrifying concepts and sudden changes can positively impact others.

Pairings: S/Mc, U/Sc, K/R (implied), and other minor characters –m/f and m/m.

Rating: K+ for swearing, slash, and adult concepts.

Disclaimer: I own Lieutenant Hernandez, Tzu, S'Brin and Simon. However, Star Trek and all related characters belong to Paramount. Go them.

* * *

Chapter 1: Genius and Insanity 

_(Author's Note: This chapter takes place a hand full of months after the prologue. Tzu is pronounced 'Suu.')_

"Can you believe Hernandez escaped?" Doctor McCoy asked his old friend Captain Kirk as he sat down next to him in the briefing room. Kirk shrugged.

"I've got to believe it. We're being ordered to find him in conjunction with Commander Tzu from Starfleet Security."

"How did he get out?" Sulu asked, "I knew him, Captain. He's not particularly brilliant or strong, just a poor scientist who went crazy. He was a nice guy until…" He trailed off.

"Until he snapped." Chekov finished less delicately.

The door opened and two men walked in. Mister Spock sat next to Kirk, and his much shorter companion, Commander Tzu, stood at the front of the room, facing the other officers.

"As I'm sure you all know, Lieutenant Jeraldo Hernandez escaped yesterday from the penal colony on Theta Psi 7, where he was receiving psychiatric care. He hijacked a shuttlecraft and is now holding three innocent people hostage. He is armed with a class two phaser and it is assumed he can pilot a shuttlecraft on his own, as per his Acadamy training."

"Has he given any clue as to his intended refuge or his reason for escape?" Spock inquired.

"He only said his work was done, but not properly recorded. We aren't sure if he was serious or suffering from another one of his delusions."

"Assuming he was lucid at the time… Doctor, could his statement relate to his research which you would not condone?"

McCoy nodded slowly, "It could, but if he's completed his research, what if he starts experimenting? Or has already started?"

"Are you referring to his research on genetically engineered children for same-sex couples?" Tzu interrupted. Spock and McCoy nodded. Tzu looked uncomfortable for a moment. "I assumed so. I'm afraid to say that it is quite likely he has already begun his experimentation. Before he escaped, he received a number of comms from his brother, Ivan. Of the ones we could access, the first read: "It's okay, you tried. Don't beat yourself up. We can give you more samples." The second: "Are you sure that's legal?" The third: "I've got them, but let me and Chaz give you more samples first." And the final: "Yes! It worked! Thank you so much! Are you sure you want to try the other samples?"" Tzu cleared his throat. "I think we can safely assume the samples Ivan spoke of were semen samples from he and his husband, Chaz. If "it" was a viable conception,"

"Mister Hernandez would be an uncle." McCoy finished.

"You mean he made a baby from two men's DNA?" Scotty asked with surprise. "I'll be."

"That is our hypothesis, yes." Spock agreed. There was a brief silence.

"Then, could he be going to visit his brother?" Uhura asked, "I know if I had a niece or nephew, I'd want to see it as soon as I could."

"If he is, he's going the long way. He's heading the opposite direction of Earth, where it is reported his brother lives."

"Well, he is mad." Chekov muttered. Tzu frowned.

"Quite."

"So, Commander, am I to assume that we are to follow and apprehend him?"

Tzu nodded at Kirk, "Yes, Captain. Also, we must do so without bringing harm to any of the hostages."

"So, I guess we can't use the tractor beam to drag him in kicking and screaming?" Kirk joked.

"Let him scream," Tzu said with a smile, "It's that kick we're worried about. I'll give your navigator the coordinates."

"Thank you, Commander. Bones, Spock, I want you two to review his research before he… snapped. That work is his life; if you understand it, you might be able to talk him into letting the hostages go. Chekov, get those coordinates. Sulu, when the course is set, proceed at warp five. Dismissed, gentlemen."

Everyone except Spock and McCoy went to the bridge. Spock and McCoy went to the medical lab.

"Did you ever think he would succeed?" McCoy inquired.

"I believed his theory was viable, though unethical."

"What do you think they'll do?"

"To Hernandez?"

"No, the baby." McCoy amended, shaking his head.

"Assuming there is one? Assuming it survives?"

"Yeah," His voice was distant

"It will be researched the entirety of its life. Its biological parents will be institutionalized, and so unless it is put into the custody of its extended family members, it will be the responsibility of the orphanages."

"You say it like the baby is an animal! Poor thing, I really worry about him."

"You assume it is male?"

"Better than "it"!"

"Perhaps you should be more concerned with the second transmission Hernandez received."

"Which one?"

"Are you sure that is legal?" Spock quoted, "Which was later followed by: we got them, but,"

"Let me and Chaz give you another sample first." McCoy finished. "They were using other samples, so?"

"I would hypothesize that they stole other samples. If so, they may have another couple's child."

"Or be developing it. My God, and not even with consent. Damn."

Spock nodded. "Do you still have his files?"

"Yeah, let me pull them up." McCoy began working at one of the computers. "Here they are. It looks like his math works out."

Spock read over McCoy's shoulder. "He might have changed some of the data. These calculations are off. He has been able to continue his research the whole time."

"Of course, there's no harm in letting an insane person use a calculator. Damn it. Can you make the calculations work, since he managed to?"

"I shall endeavor to do so."

McCoy nodded and crossed his arms. "What really bothers me is that he was actually able to do it. I never thought he would be able to once he snapped."

"The expression states that there is a fine line between genius and insanity."


	3. Alright? No, But I'm Finished

**S'Brin**

Summary: One crewmember becomes devoted to forbidden research. This is the story of how even the most terrifying concepts and sudden changes can positively impact others.

Pairings: S/Mc, U/Sc, K/R (implied), and other minor characters –m/f and m/m.

Rating: K+ for swearing, slash, and adult concepts.

Disclaimer: I own Lieutenant Hernandez, Tzu, S'Brin and Simon. However, Star Trek and all related characters belong to Paramount. Go them. I also don't own Much Ado About Nothing, which is by Shakespeare. I quote that this chapter.

_Reviews:_

Allergic-to-Paradox- I appreciate your review! To answer your question, because I'm sure others have the same thought: the baby's biological parents –Ivan Hernandez and Chaz- would be institutionalized for aiding in forbidden research and theft of biological samples.

Vulcan Forge- Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy the rest of my story!

(Author's Note: Before I posted this chapter I had exactly 1701 words. That makes me smile, especially since I didn't even plan that.)

* * *

Chapter 2: Alright? No, But I'm Finished 

The _Enterprise_ caught up with the shuttlecraft in a matter of hours. Uhura hadn't managed to raise them, but she kept trying. Spock walked onto the bridge.

"How was the research?" Kirk asked.

"Obviously effective, but rather tedious work. Many of his calculations were incorrect, so I had to rework them."

"But you understand the work?"

"Naturally."

"Good. Can you try and raise him? He might have detested that you refused his request for research facilities, but he respected you in his way."

Spock stood beside Uhura at the communications consol and at her signal began. "_Enterprise_ to shuttlecraft. Mister Hernandez, please respond." Silence. "Repeat, Mister Hernandez, please respond."

"Someone's got a broken record-ord. The sweet song tends to skip-ip!" Lieutenant Hernandez's voice sing-songed through over the comm. line.

"Mister Hernandez, please power down your engines and prepare to be boarded." Spock continued, unfazed.

"Sorry, Spocky, but I'm in a hurry!" Hernandez laughed. "I've got a few reports to finish, but they'll be on your desk in the morning, sir!"

Kirk and Spock exchanged a glance. "Lieutenant, if you don't power down your engines, we will be forced to open fire on you," Kirk warned.

"Oh, please, Captain, don't insult me! I'm crazy, not stupid! You don't want these stuffy shrinks to die, do you?"

Kirk scowled.

"Is the old coot still aboard, or did he do us all a favor and kick the bucket?"

Kirk looked at Spock; both of them were confused. "Coot?"

"Ol' Lenny McCoy! Oh, please say he's still alive. I want to tell him: I told you so!" Hernandez cackled.

"Doctor McCoy is still with us."

Hernandez laughed some more. "Excellent! I want to talk to him!"

"He is busy." Spock stated.

"Busy, busy, busy Bones! Make him _un_-busy; this Tellerite is annoying me!"

"Comm McCoy, Uhura," Kirk ordered, "Bring him up here."

"I knew I always liked you. While we wait, how's the crew?"

"Don't toy with me, Hernandez!"

"Oh, sir, no, sir! I'm just curious. What about Commander Tzu? Is he still on my tail?"

"I'm here, Hernandez." Tzu replied.

"Wonderful." Hernandez drawled sarcastically. "I'm sure you're waiting to cuff me in irons, then? Hm?"

"Not if you come quietly."

"Ah, I have the right to remain silent! LA LA LA!" He screeched. "Anything I say or do _has _been used against me! I'll not go gently into that good night!"

McCoy walked onto the bridge. "You wanted to see me, Jim?"

"Hernandez is on the comm."

"Hey there, Doc!"

McCoy crossed his arms. "Jeraldo, are you alright?"

"Alright? Am I ALRIGHT?!" Hernandez screamed. "Is that animal, vegetable, or mineral? Alright? NO! But, I'm finished! She's beautiful, dark hair, light skin, the prettiest eyes… I didn't even have to try! You see, no eugenics! Just chance!"

"You're an uncle?" McCoy asked.

Hernandez sniffed. "Uncle, brother, mother, niece, cousin… I'm crazy!"

"Power down, Hernandez. We'll try and make you well."

"Neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well… But Civil, Count, as civil as an orange, and something of that complexion…"

"Much Ado about Nothing." Spock stated.

"Exactly! Nothing! Nothing is everything to me; everything is nothing to you! This is my life's work! The work for life! Not death, like you! See everyone dying; see everyone dead, what fun we are having!" Hernandez sounded utterly enraged.

"Calm down, Jeraldo," McCoy said shakily, "No sense in getting upset."

"Woo! Better sedate me, I'm getting a little wild. No problem though, I'll do it!"

Hernandez's ship powered down completely. Not even life-support remained.

"Kirk to transporter room, beam those people aboard. Tow that shuttle in." Kirk ordered.

After a minute, Scotty commed the bridge. "We've got them sir. Hernandez is asleep."

"Asleep?" Kirk asked Tzu.

"One of his little jokes. When he didn't want us to sedate him, he'd freeze up and act sleep. At least we thought we could restrain him, but then he'd toss and turn. We all got frustrated until we realized he was acting."

Sulu shook his head. "It's sad to think of how he used to be."

"Try not to, Mr. Sulu." Kirk said with a sigh. "Commander Tzu, you'll want to see him to the brig?"

"I would sir."

"McCoy, you should check the psychiatrists over, Hernandez too. Make sure the stress hasn't made him any worse than he already is."

McCoy nodded and he and Tzu left.

"Very strange, Captain. Why would he power down now when he would not before?"

"He's crazy, Spock. I doubt he knows why he did it."


	4. Calm Before the Storm

**S'Brin**

Summary: One crewmember becomes devoted to forbidden research. This is the story of how even the most terrifying concepts and sudden changes can positively impact others.

Pairings: S/Mc, U/Sc, K/R (implied), and other minor characters –m/f and m/m.

Rating: K+ for swearing, slash, and adult concepts.

Disclaimer: I own Lieutenant Hernandez, Tzu, S'Brin and Simon. However, Star Trek and all related characters belong to Paramount. Go them.

_Reviews:_

Allergic-to-Paradox: _Much Ado _is my favorite play by Shakespeare, I had to stick a quote in somewhere and it felt appropriate. And, as far as I know, Hernandez is crazy. Smart, chock-full of common sense, but crazy.

Kohaku Kawa: I'm pleased you're reading my latest story! Thanks for the praise, too. Anyway, communism is Russian, so Chekov would probably know it inside and out, hence Janice's reference. As for Southern conservative-ism, well, I live in Georgia myself and I can say that the South has been and probably always will be conservative, at least in the eyes of outsiders.

(Author's Note: I have nothing to comment on this chapter. Be amazed….)

* * *

Chapter 3: Calm Before the Storm 

McCoy finished scanning the psychiatrists – all were fine – and went down to the brig to scan Hernandez. Tzu met him there.

"He's cuffed and seems lucid for now."

"Calm before the storm?" McCoy asked.

"Usually is. Talk to him if you can. You're a shrink too, right?"

McCoy grinned. "Aren't you?"

"I hate talking to them. I can predict their movements, track them down… But talk to them?" Tzu shuddered.

"Then how do you know they're really crazy?"

"I let sane people like you talk to them. Go on in."

McCoy sat next to Hernandez who was staring at the ceiling, and heard the force-field reactivate behind him.

"Hey, Doc."

"Hey, Jeraldo. How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good. See? I told you I could do it."

By 'it,' McCoy assumed he was talking about making that girl. "I never said you couldn't; I said you shouldn't."

"Her name is Teresa; isn't it beautiful? My brother-in-law named her. Do you have kids?"

"I have a daughter: Joanna."

"Any sons?"

McCoy closed his tricorder. "Nope, just my daughter."

"How old is she?"

"Twenty last month. She's studying to be a nurse."

Hernandez sat up and studied McCoy with his wild eyes. "Does she look like you? Blue eyes, brown hair?'

"Oh, yeah, she's got my eyes." McCoy stood up. "But she's got her mother's red hair. She doesn't really look like either of us. She's got a round face like me but her momma's refined features… Pretty as a peach."

Hernandez chuckled. "Ever want more? Kids, I mean."

"My wife and I are divorced, and I'm not involved, despite what you may have thought."

Hernandez laughed out loud. "I'm crazy! What I think is madness. But I'm not the only one who thinks it, does that make everyone else crazy too?"

"I don't know, but they didn't steal shuttlecrafts."

"I'm innocent by reason of insanity," He joked.

McCoy chuckled. "I'm a doctor, not a lawyer. I'll let them handle this."

"Lawyers make me look sane. I bet you're a good father."

"Not as good as I'd have liked to be. I'd change a lot if I could."

"It must be nice, having kids."

"Best thing in the universe. I love my daughter to death, and we get along great."

Hernandez nodded and yawned. "I'm tired. Stealing shuttlecrafts is exhausting work."

"Well, before I go, I have a few questions I need to ask you." The unsaid 'before you start raving again' hung in the air like a foul stench.

"Ask, but I may not answer."

"Where were you going?"

"To see my niece."

"Where is she?"

"With her _papi_, my brother."

"Are they on a planet, a space station, or a ship?"

"None of the above."

It was like playing twenty-God-damned-questions! "An asteroid? A moon?"

"Yes."

"To which?"

"A moon."

"Luna, or some other moon?"

"Yes."

"Which one?"

"Another moon."

"Damnit, man, you keep givin' me circular answers and I'll never know where that girl is!"

"I think that's the point, Doc. Sorry, but I won't endanger her or my brother."

"Is she the only baby you made?"

"No, of course not." After a long pause, Hernandez muttered, "Even I don't always get things right on my first try."

McCoy shuddered. "How many did you lose?"

Hernandez lay back on his cot. "About seven. That isn't counting the attempts that never actually conceived."

McCoy sighed and looked away. "My God, seven?'

"Seven. Two of them paired up YY. A Boy is XY and a girl is XX. YY is dead."

"I know my basic biology, Jeraldo."

"Yeah. The others died in improperly balanced amniotic fluid. Teresa was the first, hopefully of many. The Hernandezes believe in big families."

"Why not adopt?"

"There's nothing quite like holding your own child in your arms… I lost my baby boy to SIDS when I was younger."

I'm so sorry Jeraldo. I really am." McCoy crossed his am. "So, why not research SIDS prevention or something?"

"It's called _sudden_ infant death syndrome for a reason, Doc. Besides, Ivan was always a better 'parent,' and he's always wanted a baby of his own for so long. My baby… He was born out of wedlock. I don't really want kids of my own."

McCoy sighed and left the cell and reactivated the force field behind him.


	5. Thirty Seconds Too Late

**S'Brin**

Disclaimer: I own Lieutenant Hernandez, Ivan Hernandez, Tzu, S'Brin and Simon. However, Star Trek and all related characters belong to Paramount. Woo-hoo for Paramount!

_Reviews:_

Allergic-to-Paradox: I'm getting there; I'm getting there! You just have to keep reading!

Kohaku-Kawa: Thanks! It's rather easy to get into the mind of a character I invented (Hernandez… not McCoy…)

Adenil: Glad you enjoyed it, but it's about to get sadder... Sorry folks!

_(Author's Note: On another note, these next few chapters will be a bit slower coming because these were not handwritten ahead of time, and those that were need to be revised and edited. And finally, ANGST warning! The end of this one is pretty sad.)_

* * *

Chapter 4: Thirty Seconds Too Late 

McCoy went to the bridge. Kirk cast a glance at him from over his shoulder.

"How is he, Bones?"

McCoy shrugged. "He's lucid at the moment, but a bit too lucid to tell us where his brother and the baby are. He never was stupid."

"Why the long face?"

McCoy looked up with surprise. Spock wasn't the only one who could hide his emotions; he hadn't realized he was letting his discomfort regarding the seven stillborn babies show.

"Hernandez told me he lost seven babies before Teresa."

"Who?" Kirk asked.

"Oh, sorry. That's the baby girl's name. Teresa."

"I see. Look, Bones, don't let it bother you. Babies are stillborn all the time."

"Maybe, but I don't have to like it."

"That, Doctor," Spock said, not even looking up from his scanner, "is why you are a doctor and Mr. Hernandez is in a cell."

"Are you saying my compassion is actually a good thing?"

"I merely stated that your desire to preserve life, rather than your ability to disregard death, makes you a more adequate surgeon."

"Gentlemen, I don't want an argument right now. I still have a headache from listening to Hernandez's raving a while ago." Kirk interrupted before McCoy could reply. McCoy just nodded instead.

Uhura looked up from her station, a very confused expression on her face.

"Captain?"

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Something on the ship is receiving a distress call."

"Something… on the ship? Not the ship itself?"

"Yes sir, something _on_ the ship."

"Perhaps Hernandez's shuttlecraft, Captain." Spock suggested.

"Can you intercept the signal, Lieutenant?"

"Of course, Captain."

"Do it."

A brief static sound could be heard and then the shrill sound of a baby crying.

"Jeraldo, Jeraldo, answer me _por favor_! Teresa is sick… We think it may have to do with some genetic instability,"

"Lieutenant, can you respond?" McCoy snapped.

"I'll try sir," She pushed a few buttons, "Audio only, sir."

"Jeraldo, the tricorder shows her immune system is in overdrive, but she's killing her own cells. We don't know what to do!"

"Mr. Hernandez, this is the USS Enterprise, can you read us?" Kirk interrupted.

"_Dios_, I, I just wanted to talk to my brother…"

"Ivan, this is Doctor McCoy. I want to help you."

"We have your brother in custody, Mr. Hernandez," Tzu stated.

"McCoy? My brother mentioned a McCoy… But if you are a doctor you have to be able to help us. _Senor_, we need all the help we can get."

Kirk walked over to Spock's station as McCoy spoke with Ivan. "Can you trace the signal?" He muttered in a low tone.

"I am attempting to do so."

"McCoy's doing his best, but we need to get that little girl to sickbay, now."

McCoy continued to talk to Hernandez. "Is the injection helping?"

"No, _senor_… The white corpuscles are still working like mad… Wait, the tricorder says… _Santa Maria_…"

"What? Ivan, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's happening!"

"Her genetic matrix is breaking down! She's dying, _senor_!"

McCoy whipped his head over to Kirk and Spock. "We need to be there NOW!"

"Mr. Hernandez, can you tell us your location?"

"Uh, a moon… Thoralis 6 I think, or is it Lokina 7… _Senor_, I don't know…"

"I have the coordinates, Captain. Thoralis 7." Spock said, sending the coordinates to Chekov's station.

"Mr. Chekov, set coordinates and take us there, maximum warp." Kirk ordered.

"Aye, Keptin. Estimated time to arrival, 13 minutes."

"Ivan, we're coming to help the girl, but if you have any shields to keep people out, you have to lower them so we can beam in." McCoy looked back at Kirk. "If we're gong to help her, we need to be there faster. I have a genetic stabilizer in Sickbay, but it'll do her no good in ten minutes."

"I'll talk to Scotty."

Spock wordlessly counted the seconds. It took 630 seconds… 10.5 minutes to reach Thoralis 7. He privately hoped McCoy had been incorrect in how long the genetic destabilization would take, or that McCoy had given a smaller estimate in order to allow him more time to work with the girl. Unfortunately, for the first time it seemed to Spock, McCoy's estimate was perfectly accurate. If the ship had arrived 30 seconds sooner, the baby Teresa might have still been alive.

* * *

"Kirk to Tzu."

Commander Tzu clicked the comm. panel in the brig on. "Tzu here."

"We're taking a brief detour to Thoralis 7—"

"No!" Jeraldo yelled, jumping up from his cot in his cell. "Why? How did you know?"

"Your brother called us. Teresa… Didn't make it, Jeraldo. Bones did all he could, but… it was too late. I'm sorry. Kirk out."

Tzu looked over at Hernandez. The lieutenant looked horrified, all his muscles tensed like a beast's in a cage, seeing it's prey. "It's over then, Hernandez. Your project is done."

"She was innocent!" Hernandez growled. "She was a baby."

"McCoy did all he could. If you had told us where she and your brother were, then we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Do you have any idea what it means to care about another human being?"

"Human beings? Yes. I keep freaks like you and your brother from hurting normal people when you try to play God."

Hernandez hurled himself against the force field with all his might. The light in the room was blinding. When Tzu could see clearly again, he saw Hernandez lying unconscious on the floor.

"Damnit." Tzu swore, grabbing a tricorder and lifting the force field to Hernandez's cell. When he crouched by the madman's side, a fist shot out – lightning fast – and rend Tzu truly unconscious on the floor.

"Idiot," Hernandez grumbled as he pulled himself to his feet, taking Tzu's phaser and dusting his shirt off. "When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw." He laughed harshly. "Don't you, Mr. Tzu?"

As he left, he closed the force field behind him.

* * *

Just incase you don't speak Spanish... 

-_Por favor_ means 'please'.

-_Dios_ means 'God'

-_Senor_ means 'Mister' or 'Sir' (Thanks to Allyp for fixing my spelling!)

-_Santa Maria_ means 'Saint Mary'

Forgive me if you do speak Spanish and I misused any of the expressions in the story.


	6. Adios, Papi

S'Brin

Disclaimer: I own S'Brin, the Hernandez's, Tzu, and Simon. Everyone else belongs to Paramount.

Pairing: Obviously there's m/m in this chapter between Ivan and Chaz Hernandez. If you squint, you can kinda see some S/Mc in this chapter. (More is coming soon, I promise!)

Reviews: 

Allergic-to-Paradox: Thanks for the Spanish spelling lesson! I really needed it, as you could well know.

Kohaku-Kawa: (Cries) S/Mc is coming soon, I promise! It's kinda light in these next few chapters, but it will get a lot heavier later (probably even nauseatingly so.)

((Author's Note: Yay! Now we get into the rich and meaty part of the story! Warning: Major character gets shot! However, this story is designed to work within canon, so bear that in mind when you remember that this takes place during the five-year mission. The first part of this chapter is like the Prologue, but from Uhura's point of view.

And also, HAPPY NEW YEAR!))

* * *

Chapter 5: _Adios, Papi_

**Nyota:**

She gasped when she saw him holding the phaser. The captain and doctor spun around to look at her.

"My God, Hernandez, put that down!" McCoy shouted.

She reached for the security alert button…

"Don't even try it, Miss Uhura. I've knocked out the whole communications relay… No one knows I'm here, and no one's going to know."

"Jeraldo, put that down, there's no reason to," McCoy started.

"Shut up, old man!" Hernandez shouted. "You've stolen everything from me! Do you have any idea how much I've wanted to be able to tell my brother that he and his husband could have kids of their own? How much I've wanted to bring life and joy where before it was impossible?"

"Look, son, put the phaser down. We'll talk about this,"

"WHERE? In the brig? I'm tired of talking to you. Just hearing your voice with that thick, disgusting drawl makes me SICK! No, I'm tired of talking! This is it!"

The captain stood up. "Hernandez, put that down! That's an order, Lieutenant!"

Hernandez was beginning to tremble. "I've devoted all my life to this… And HE snatches it away. You killed her!"

"Her, her who?" Uhura asked, not realizing the words had left her mouth.

"My niece… She was so beautiful… And that bastard killed her!"

McCoy took a tentative step up to Hernandez. "Jeraldo, I tried to help her,"

When the light flashed it was like time froze.

"_Adios_, _Papi_." Hernandez whispered.

McCoy just stood there, his eyes wide and his jaw shaking just a little. The captain yelled something, but she couldn't tell what. She didn't know how he got there, but in almost the blink of an eye Spock had nerve-pinched Hernandez. Both Hernandez and McCoy collapsed to the floor. The captain caught McCoy. No one caught Hernandez.

"Lieutenant, please go to Sickbay immediately. Tell Nurse Chapel and Doctor M'Benga to get here expeditiously."

She wondered for a minute why Spock was talking to Hernandez, and why was he talking so calmly? Shouldn't he at least be angry if…

"Lieutenant?"

Oh! Her! "Sorry, sir. I'm on my way."

"Once you have spoken with Sickbay, please inform Engineering that communications are down, and assist them in repairs."

"Yes, sir."

She could hear the captain whispering commands to McCoy to stay alive. She wished she knew how else she could help, but she was just a lieutenant… What could she do?

* * *

((3rd person.)) 

"I'll need you to come down with me to investigate the facility, Spock." The captain muttered as he watched some medical orderlies lift McCoy onto an anti-grav stretcher. Spock folded his hands behind his back.

"Sir, I believe I would be of more use here."

"Doing what? The medical staff will take care of Bones and while were in orbit of a moon deep within Federation space we don't need you on the bridge." He stood and put a hand on Spock's shoulder. "Bones will pull through on his own. He's made of tougher stuff than Hernandez gives him credit for. Besides, the phaser was only set on stun."

"At point-blank range." Spock stated. Jim frowned.

"Regardless, we need you on the moon to scan the equipment Hernandez was using to make all those kids. Maybe even figure out why the little girl's genetic matrix broke down."

"Sir, any science or medical officer could,"

Kirk's grip on Spock's shoulder tightened and he looked the Vulcan square in the eye, "My Chief Medical Officer is critical, and I'm not willing to pull a single member of the medical team away from him right now. I'm worried about Bones too, Spock, and regardless of McCoy's condition, you are my Chief Science Officer."

Spock raised his head ever so slightly. "I am not worried, Captain. That is an emotional state related to increased stress."

Kirk cracked a half smile. "Besides, Bones would never let you live it down if he found out."

Spock only raised an eyebrow in reply.

When Jim and Spock beamed down with three security officers, Ivan and Chaz Hernandez were waiting for them. Chaz was holding his daughter's corpse. Jim lowered his head in deference to the two men's pain.

"I'm sorry for your loss, gentlemen."

"_Gracias_, _senor_. Your doctor did all he could. Is this he?" Ivan said, looking at Spock. Spock shook his head.

"No sir. Doctor McCoy was," he caught Jim's eye and noticed he was being given the 'warning' look. "Is in surgery at the moment. I am a science officer."

"Ah, _si_, _senor_. We are so sorry for all we have put you through… But when Jeraldo told us he could give us our own child, we would have done anything."

Kirk hesitated. In times like this, McCoy would normally have interjected some emotional appeal in order to prevent these men from being arrested.

_They lost their daughter and now you want to throw them in the brig?_

Jim shook his head. "Sirs, I need you to come up to the _Enterprise_ with us. What you were doing here is illegal and,"

"Are you going to arrest us?" Chaz whispered. He did not have a Spanish accent like Ivan and Jeraldo.

Spock decided not to listen further. Jim was here to make the arrest; Spock was here to scan. And so, he scanned. Much of the equipment appeared to be functioning still. Perhaps the Hernandez's had forgotten to turn the equipment off.

As he walked deeper into the laboratory, he heard a muffled whine coming from the room next door. When he tried the door, he found it was locked. He began to scan it.

Chaz looked over at Spock. "What's he doing?"

"Just scanning, Mister Hernandez," Jim said. Ivan whipped his head over in Spock's direction.

"You cannot go in there, _senor_!" He snapped.

"I hear a noise." Spock said. "And my tricorder is showing a life-sign in there. It appears to be deteriorating."

Chaz groaned and collapsed to his knees. "Not him too!" He wept.

"Can you help him, _Senor_, the way you would have helped our daughter?" Ivan asked, wrapping his arms around his husband's head.

"Him? You made another one?!" Kirk exclaimed.

"A genetic stabilizer is universal, sir." Spock replied.

"The access code is 35782. Please, help him."

Spock keyed in the code. When the door opened, the whine became a full-fledged scream. There was indeed another infant. In a crib with an open incubation dome over the top lie a tiny, greenish boy, writhing with apparent discomfort. His hair was black, long, still wet with the amniotic fluids the child had apparently grown in, and sticking to his ears and forehead.

"Is that your baby?" Kirk asked Ivan.

"No, _senor_. He is the baby Jeraldo asked us to make from the samples he told us to get from Starfleet Medical."

"Whose DNA did you use?" Kirk asked, grabbing the man by the shoulders urgently.

"We don't know!" Ivan whimpered. "He gave us sample numbers, which he made us delete after we got the samples. He told us he didn't want any loose ends!"

Spock held the baby in his arms. "Sir, we need to get this little one to the ship immediately if we want to be able to help him."

Kirk nodded and opened his communicator. "Eight to beam up immediately, Scotty."

As Spock felt the energy beam take hold of him, he felt a small presence enter his mind and he was suddenly overcome with agonizing pain.

* * *

More Spanish Stuff: 

_Adios_: Good Bye

_Papi_: Father

_Si_: Yes

_Gracias_: Thank You

And incase it wasn't clear in the first five chapters of this story, these names are pronounced phonetically:

Ivan: eevaan

Jeraldo: heraldo

Tzu: suu

S'Brin (The title and a character I keep alluding to in my disclaimer): Suh-Brin 

All other names and words are pronounced like they would be on the TV show.

((Author's Note 2: For a picture I drew of Hernandez shooting McCoy and a few cute comics relating to this story, feel free to go to my website, the link of which is on my profile. All comics and pictures are rated G and the standard disclaimers apply.))


	7. We're Doing All We Can

S'Brin 

Disclaimer: I own S'Brin, the Hernandez's, Tzu, and Simon. Everyone else belongs to Paramount.

Pairings: Some Ch/S (one sided, unfortunately for her), and again with the light dose of S/Mc.

Reviews:

Rissa Of The Saiya-Jin: I'm not exactly sure of what you mean… There are no rodents in this story, literal or metaphorical. But thanks for your review. Perhaps this chapter will be a little clearer in regards to intent…

Allergic-to-Paradox: I can neither confirm nor deny your hypothesis; I don't want to spoil the story. ;)

Kohaku-Kawa: I love theories; they make life interesting. But, like I said before, I'm not going to confirm or deny anything related to the plot until (obviously) I actually wrote it in the story.

((Author's Note: So, the last part of this chapter (Christine's POV) was written before I wrote chapters 2-6. Hence you'll notice the baby isn't even mentioned. I know that. I tried to add mention of him in, but it never seemed to fit. Yet, I feel that the omission actually adds to the mood of that part. If you don't agree, that's fine, just say so in your review but keep your flames at bay.))

* * *

Chapter 6: We're Doing All We Can

When they materialized in the transporter room, Spock fell to his knees and screamed. Kirk and the others huddled around him. The room was deafening with the baby and Spock's cries of pain. One of the security guards ran to the comm. and called for a doctor.

"Spock, what's wrong?"

"Child…" Spock gasped out. "Touch-tele… agony… take it!" Spock groaned, thrusting the baby into Kirk's arms. Instantly, the intensity was lessened, but he still felt a great deal of pain. However, this he could control. The baby screamed louder.

"Spock, I didn't know your touch telepathy was so intense with children," Kirk began, but then he wobbled slightly, "Oh no…"

"Captain?" Spock asked.

"I… I feel like I've got a migraine all of a sudden." He ran a finger along the slope of the baby's ear. "I think I know why."

If the green complexion had not been evidence enough, Spock's suspicions that the child was Vulcanoid were confirmed when he saw the tiny point at the tip of the little ear.

One of the medical orderlies came in and gave the baby a shot of the genetic stabilizer. She offered to scan Spock, but he declined. Kirk began bouncing the child in his arms some and the boy calmed down a great deal.

"All better now, aren't you, little guy? Did you name him, Mr. Hernandez?"

"No, _senor_. Jeraldo wanted to give this little one to his own _Papi_s. We didn't think it would be right to name a little one who wasn't ours," Ivan replied softly.

"How's McCoy?" Kirk asked the orderly. She shook her head.

"Doctor M'Benga is doing his best, sir, and all the nurses, too. I'm really the only one we felt we could spare. Should I set up a pediatric care unit in Sickbay for this little guy?"

"That would be a good idea. When he's really stable and fed and clothed and all that, get a DNA scan done. I want to know whose DNA these two stole."

"Stole? From where? If we had a specific database to search, it will be quicker."

"Starfleet Medical." Spock stated.

"Really? Okay. Well, could one of you bring him to Sickbay? I need my hands free to set up the pediatric unit."

"I will." Spock said. "Hopefully, with my touch-telepathy, I can keep the child from crying while the Sickbay staff works."

Kirk nodded and handed the baby off. "Plus, I think he likes you better." He said with a smile. Spock merely cocked an eyebrow in response.

* * *

**Christine:**

She gasped when she saw he was still here. It wasn't like him to stay longer than necessary. She supposed even he could be moved by this horror. He stood beside the biobed staring intently at the moniter.

"Mister Spock?"

"What is his condition, Nurse?"

She walked over and stood in front of him, looking only at her boss rather than the man she'd pined after for all these years. "The phaser was on heavy stun, thank God. His ribcage absorbed most of the blast, but…"

"But?"

"The blast caused his heart to… restart, as it were. Like a defibrillator would. The rhythm was thrown off, and so Doctor McCoy's body has all but shut down, trying to right itself. He's in a coma at present."

Medical mode was so much easier to be in when talking to him… anything else and she ran the risk of breaking down… Wanting to be held or to be so overly emotional… It didn't matter. He didn't want her either way. She needed to get over him.

But she couldn't.

Spock turned and looked at Len. She wondered if it was because he knew what she was thinking, feeling. That was ridiculous.

"Is he on artificial respiration?"

"No, but his breathing is weak and irregular. We're keeping an eye on him, Mister Spock." _You don't have to worry_, she thought.

But how could she think that when all of sickbay was worried sick at the thought that he might not come out of this coma? To her knowledge, he didn't have much to live for. Oh, there was his job, but the mission was winding down and he'd told her before that he didn't know what he was going to do when it ended… And there was his daughter, but she was a grown woman, already engaged, it wasn't as though she would stick around to keep him company.

It seemed everyone was willing to desert him. Even she herself was planning on returning to med-school to become a full-fledged MD. The captain was going to become an admiral, and Spock… She didn't want to think about what he was going to do. It broke her heart to try.

"I shall as well." Spock stated.

"What?"

She never thought she'd see him wait at someone's bedside while they were… That just seemed too emotional to her!

"The Hernandez's are in custody, and we are en route to Star-Base 6 to deposit them. I am not required there and Doctor McCoy…"

She could see the gaping holes in Spock's logic, even from here.

"I'm sure he'll feel better knowing you were here, but…"

"I would not know, Christine."

She sighed. Of course he would. He and McCoy argued about things like that every day. But it wasn't her squabble. They were both foolish boys and she was a hopeless woman. She could never understand them.

* * *

((Author's Note 2: For a picture I drew of Hernandez shooting McCoy (Chapter 6) and a few comics relating to this story (and some that don't), please feel free to go to my website, the link of which is on my website. All comics are rated G and the standard disclaimers apply.)) 


	8. Baby Blues

S'Brin

Disclaimer: I own S'Brin, Simon, the Hernandez's, Tzu, and this spiffy can of Diet Coke which is the only thing keeping me conscious. As far as everything else goes, it belongs to Paramount. 

Pairings: Yay! This chapter ACTUALLY has the S/Mc I've promised. Woo! Also, there might be undertones of S/Ch (one sided, poor girl…), K/R, Sc/U, and various other m/m or m/f relationships.

Reviews:

My-AnnoyingCo-Writer: Could it be… Wesley??? No? Okay. Well, then, it must be T3. Thanks for catching the typo. And everyone, T3 is the bestest co-writer this fish has ever had, regardless of how annoying she might be. Read her stuff (under our screenname!) and review it. She'll love you. Swear.

Allergic-To-Paradox: We're all just gutter-minded slashers at heart, and I love your blurb. I'm glad you like the comic! As for the name… D'oh! I admit nothing! But really, by this point, it probably is obvious…

Kohaku-Kawa: I live to fulfill the S/Mc goodness. And the warning was put there mostly because I was bothered by it, not because I figured anyone else would be. But thanks anyway!

((Author's Note: There are a number of medical conditions colloquially called "baby blues". The two I can think of are _Post-Partum _Depression and a condition where a baby's eyes appear blue or gray due to a lack of melanin in their irises. When McCoy and M'Benga reference this condition this chapter they are referring to the later condition, as the only thing that could suffer _Post-Partum_ for this particular baby is a test tube.))

* * *

Chapter 7: Baby Blues

Leonard McCoy opened his eyes to see the drab grey ceiling of Sickbay. There certainly were better things to wake up to. He grunted and tried to sit up, only to feel a heavy hand rest on his shoulder. He looked over to see his old friend and co-worker, Dr. Geoff M'Benga.

"Don't try and sit up too fast, Len. You don't want your blood pressure to drop and cause you to pass out."

"What happened? How'd I get here? Last thing I remember was bein' on the bridge."

"Well, Hernandez shot you."

"What?! He shot me? That son-of-a-bitch! When I get my hands on him, I'll," Len tried to sit up again, but a wave of vertigo knocked him back.

"I told you not to sit up so fast! And you aren't going anywhere, not until I clear you fit for duty."

"I'm fine, Geoff. Once I get back on my feet," Len said sitting up slowly. "I'll be set to take on the," as he kicked his legs over the edge of the biobed he felt woozy, "whole god-damned world. Uhg, I feel like crap."

"You don't look much better. I can clear you to get your rest in your quarters if you like, but considering your condition, I'll have to have someone come in and check on you periodically."

"Nah," McCoy sighed, "I'd rather be here, where I can keep an eye on things. It'll give me a chance to catch up on my paperwork."

M'Benga hummed in reply. "I figured you'd say that."

McCoy knit his brows, "What's that wailing noise? It sounds like something cryin'."

M'Benga grinned. "Our newest patient. Are you up to walking? I can show him to you."

"I've seen every lieutenant, commander, and yeoman on this ship, Geoff; I don't need you to,"

"Come on, Len. You'll like this."

McCoy shrugged and slowly pushed himself off the biobed. Geoff gripped him under one arm and led him to a private room off the main section of sickbay. Inside a little crib had been set up and a monitor was flashing silently.

"Jeraldo made another one?" McCoy breathed, hardly believing his eyes. He shrugged M'Benga off his arm and walked over to the tiny baby's bedside.

"Apparently, he stole DNA samples from Starfleet Medical for this one; there's no Hernandez blood in this kid at all. But there is Vulcan blood."

"The pointy ears clued me in on that, Geoff. There can't be many Vulcans in Starfleet." McCoy picked the little one up and tickled him. "Shush, little guy. Whasa matter? Nobody's payin' any attention to you?" The baby sobbed again.

"You're right, there's not. There are only 236 Vulcan DNA samples in Starfleet Medical, and that's including any and all ambassadors and Vulcans who man Starfleet vessels."

"Well, that's good. I guess you've pinned who the baby's daddy is then."

"One of them. The other one is human. It'll take a while longer to identify that parent."

"Well, don't make me guess, sonny. Who's the lucky father?"

"Spock."

McCoy laughed. "That's a laugh, Geoff! Spock? Who-boy, poor kid. I hope he doesn't take after that side of his family."

"Spock's not all bad, Len."

"Ha!"

"You know he waited by your bed side for eight hours while you were out? Apparently, when he noticed your life signs stabilizing he took off, probably so you wouldn't get on his case."

McCoy sniffed the baby's diaper. "Nothing wrong there. Anyway, Geoff, you know I don't really dislike Spock. I just like giving him He… Heck," McCoy amended, not wanting to swear around the baby. "Lord knows if I didn't, no one else would."

M'Benga shrugged. "The little guy's probably just hungry. The problem is: the formulae we've tried haven't been balanced for this kid's needs. Too much copper, not enough iron, wrong calcium to vitamin ratio…"

"Is there any one he seems to like best?"

"The standard human formula."

"Well, until we figure out the right ratio, we'll feed him a standard human formula and supplement the other compounds."

"Won't it be too heavy in iron?"

"Maybe, but the kid needs to eat something. I'm not on duty, so I'm leaving you in charge of the formula thing. Replicate me a bottle, okay?"

M'Benga rolled his eyes and went to do so. McCoy made a face at the baby.

"You're gonna need a name, little guy. Bet you don't like the sound of Spock Junior. No…" McCoy wiggled a finger in front of the baby's nose. The baby giggled, but then sobbed again. "You've got cute eyes, kiddo. I didn't know Vulcan babies had baby blues. Must be all that human in you. Wonder if it'll pass."

"Here's the bottle, Len." M'Benga said walking back in, "I heard you muttering about his blue eyes. I ran tests; that's his genetic color, not merely a lack of melanin. Very odd though, do you know the odds of a Vulcan/human crossbreed having blue eyes?"

"Well, Amanda had blue eyes, didn't she?" McCoy took the bottle and put it into the little guy's mouth. The baby started drinking.

"Um, no. They were hazel."

"Oh well, that's not important. She could have carried the gene and passed it to Spock. It's possible for the two blue genes to show through. Theoretically, anyone who carries the blue gene at all, even if they don't express it, could be this kid's other dad."

"Unfortunately, that doesn't narrow things down any."

"But it does narrow things down some. How long does the computer think the scanning would take?"

"Three days. That gives it time to scan every male DNA in the Starfleet Medical. This way, we don't miss anything."

"Well, have the computer scan anyone who's served on the Enterprise within the past three years first. I think Jeraldo was trying to make a point, making Spock's son."

"What if he didn't pick Spock for any particular reason? What if he just made the numbers up?"

"Then we'll find the sample eventually. It's not a problem, is it?"

M'Benga winced somewhat.

"Geoff… If there's gonna be a problem, I need to know."

"I'm not sure. You know how guarded Vulcan's are about their telepathic aspects, but when I was serving on Vulcan, I noticed parents would almost immediately form bonds with their newborn children. I don't know if that's because it's a physical necessity or a cultural nuance. I was going to ask Spock when he came back to check on you."

"Well, time may be of the essence!" McCoy half stormed, then once the vertigo hit him again, half staggered over to the comm panel on the wall. He leaned heavily against it, still holding the baby, and slammed the comm with his free hand. "McCoy to bridge."

Kirk looked up from his fuel consumption report. "Bones! You're up!"

"Darn right I am! Is Spock there?"

"I am." Spock replied looking up from his scanner. "Should you not be resting?"

"He should," M'Benga interrupted.

"I am resting. This wall I'm leaning against is very comfortable."

"Are you sure you're okay? You aren't swearing…" Kirk joked.

"Yes, I'm sure! But I'm holdin' a little baby who doesn't need to be hearing my foul language,"

"You should hold children more often then, Doctor."

"Oh, a fine time to crack a joke _Mister_ Spock. Now, get your butt down to Sickbay. I have a few serious things I need to talk to you about. McCoy out."

Kirk chuckled. "I told you M'Benga would rat you out. You should have just stayed and made up your own excuse for being there."

Spock looked only the slightest bit uncomfortable with the notion, but only the well-trained eye would have noticed.


	9. I'll Try My Best To Be Logical

S'Brin 

**Disclaimer**: The usual. This is becoming redundant. S'Brin, Simon, the Hernandez's, Tzu- Mine, everything else, Paramount's… You get it.

**Pairings**: After seven chapters, my pairings should be pretty clear, folks.

**Reviews:**

Allergic-to-Paradox: Who could it be? Hmmmm…. Perhaps you should read and find out.

T3: Forgive my not using your exceptionally long pseudonym… Thanks for the proof reading, but to answer your question, formulae is just as acceptable in everyday English as formulas. I happen to say formulae. Other people say formulae. Honestly, it never even occurred to me to write formulas. So now I will stop rambling, and return to my other reviewae.

-BaNgbAnG-Punker4Life: Good as heck? Thank you! And here is your update, as you requested. I live to serve.

Kohaku-Kawa: I tend to update when "S'Brin" gets to the second page of the TOS stories, or the weekend immediately following. It usually takes me that long to type and edit the chapters and do all those other obnoxious things college students have to do, like homework.

Lord of the Shadows: Thanks for reading! As I've said before, I cannot confirm suspicions... But I think you'll get a _heavy_ dose of foreshadowing in this chapter. As if the other eight chapters didn't have any.

((_Author's Note_: If my chapters are slow in coming, that's because I have to piece my original, hand-written rough draft into something coherent and typed. All I can say is what you're reading now is _very_ different from my original story, and I'm not just transcribing what I wrote from paper to type.))

* * *

Chapter 8: I'll Try My Best To Be Logical

When Spock entered Sickbay, he was mildly surprised to notice that the good doctor was on none of the biobeds, nor was he pacing angrily in the main chamber waiting for him. He heard muffled speech coming from the pediatric unit. When he looked in to the room he noticed that McCoy was sitting in a chair and babbling at the little boy much in the way he had babbled at Eleen's son a few years ago (1). The boy was sucking on a bottle of formula.

"Doctor, you asked for me?"

McCoy looked up from the baby and nodded. "Yeah, please, come in. Sit down."

Spock barely crinkled his brow. "As you wish." This didn't sound like one of McCoy's tirades on expressing emotions.

"I owe you congratulations; this little guy shares half of your genetic makeup."

Spock blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"This boy is your son," McCoy said with a smile. "Congrats!"

Spock looked at the wall behind McCoy. "Are you certain?"

"You try arguing with the computer," McCoy joked. "You're a daddy, Spock. Now, I know that you may not be prepared for something like this, but still you should try and be pleased about it."

"I had no intention of becoming a father," Spock stated, decidedly not looking at McCoy.

"Plenty of men think the same thing when they go out for drinks one fateful night. Now, I know that you did absolutely nothing to bring this upon yourself, and I'm not going to thrust the baby into your arms and tell you what to do. We are looking for the child's other biological father as well, so I'll probably be giving someone else this same speech."

"Doctor, I have no notions about raising children. Nor do I have any interest in forsaking my career in order to raise a child."

McCoy frowned and the baby started to cry. The doctor looked down at the child and tried to soothe him. "Shush, Blue. Shush. It's okay, I've gotcha…"

Spock's shoulders slumped just the tiniest fraction. "He is upset because you are angry. If you lay him in his crib, he will calm down."

"Good to know… Shush, lil' blue. It's okay. Here now," McCoy said standing and laying the baby in the nearby crib. "You get some rest. Doctor McCoy's gonna talk some sense into your daddy, okay? Yeah…"

Spock tensed his shoulders back to their original position. Sense? What right did McCoy presume he had to tell Spock about sense?

"Look Spock, I know your career is important to you, but you have to realize that a child isn't something you can just ignore. Geoff tells me that Vulcan parents form telepathic bonds with their babies. Now, I'm not sure if that's a cultural practice, or a physical necessity, but it might be something you need to do, and once you do, can you ignore it?" Spock didn't respond, apparently considering the issue, so McCoy continued, "I'm not telling you that you have to sacrifice everything for a baby you had no part in making, but I am telling you that while he's here and while he does share half of your DNA, you need to start thinking about his future. Now, it's your prerogative to give full custody to his other biological parent or, if he won't take him, give him up for adoption. But until then, I can't morally let you dump this kid off as Sickbay's responsibility."

"What do you propose I do? I am required on the Bridge." Spock pointed out.

"Only for one shift a day. Usually, you work two. Now, I'm going to try and work out something for you in the most logical way I can, so you help me out with this."

Spock looked at McCoy with an inquisitive expression. "Proceed."

"You don't have a crib in your quarters. We do have a crib here and Sickbay needs to keep an eye on the baby in case some kind of genetic abnormality or cellular instability occurs. Therefore, the baby will have to live in Sickbay. Do you agree?"

"Yes."

"You are the First Officer and Chief Science Officer of this ship. You have to be available twenty-four hours a day, in case of some kind of emergency, but technically you only have to be on the bridge for one shift."

"I serve as the Captain during the graveyard shift."

"Well, until better arrangements can be made, Jim and Scotty are going to have to fight over which one of them has to take graveyard shift for a while. But I am aware that the universe is a dangerous place, and so I will let you work longer than one shift per day in the event of an _emergency_. That means only when we are in Red Alert or if Jim calls you down. The choice you have is do you want to sleep during night shift, or graveyard shift, because which ever of those you don't pick is the shift you have to spend here in Sickbay taking care of your son."

Spock looked over at the crib his son was sleeping in. His son… He held his hands tightly behind his back. "This is most frustrating."

McCoy sighed, "Fatherhood is, but its also one of the most rewarding experiences in the universe."

"It would have been more logical for Hernandez to create a child from your DNA, rather than mine. You are the one with whom he was most aggrieved, and you can certainly raise a child better than I."

"Because I've done it before?" McCoy asked calmly, sensing – more so than seeing – his friend's discomfort with the issue.

"In part," Spock replied with the barest hint of a sigh, "but also because you can… _care_ for him in a manner which I cannot."

McCoy was surprised by Spock's statement, "Now, don't you dare delude yourself into thinking your logic denies you the right to love your son. He may have never said it, and it's possible he never will, but I know your full-blooded Vulcan father loves you."

Spock raised an eyebrow, "It would not be logical,"

"Love, not even paternal love, never is, but it won't kill you."

Spock thought about that for a moment, then stood and walked over to the crib and looked at the little boy. As it turned out, the baby wasn't sleeping. "He has blue eyes!" He noted with mild surprise.

"Yeah," McCoy chuckled, "Geoff says they're his real eye color. That's why I was calling him 'Blue' a while ago."

"Can he see?" Spock asked in a low voice.

McCoy blinked. He felt like a fool, it had not occurred to him to think that blue eyes might indicate blindness in some species. "I think so. He giggled when I waved my finger in front of him, but I was talking, too. I can get Geoff to run a test, if you like. But it's very likely that's just his eye color. I mean he's mostly human, right? My eyes are blue and I can see just fine. Are blue eyes characteristic of blindness on Vulcan?"

"No, but I… I have never seen a Vulcanoid with blue eyes. Gray eyes are incredibly rare, but blue is unheard of."

McCoy nodded. "I can run a quick test for you, if you like, but it won't be official."

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I am technically on medical leave until Geoff declares me fit for duty, but waving a little scanner around the boy's head shouldn't strain me too much." McCoy walked over to his desk and grabbed his medical tricorder. "May I have your permission to proceed?"

"Yes," Spock said with a nod.

McCoy scanned the little boys eyes. The results had not yet registered, but McCoy was fairly certain the baby was fine, especially when the boy reached for the scanner with a tiny groping hand. He checked the tricorder.

"Well, according to this, he's fine. His vision isn't 20/20 yet, but he's a baby, so that's to be expected."

Spock looked at the baby who blinked at him.

"Why don't you say hello?" McCoy asked.

"He would not understand me."

"That's not the point." McCoy said. Spock could detect the same sternness that he usually put in his lectures about emotions.

"Hello, my son," Spock said. The baby's head rolled a little to face Spock and he made a gurgling noise.

Spock looked at McCoy and blinked with surprise. "He could not have understood me."

McCoy patted Spock's shoulder. "I'm not so sure."

Spock could tell McCoy was not going to explain this to him. "Most illogical."

McCoy just grinned and went back to sit at his desk and work on some old reports.

* * *

_(1)Friday's Child_, in case you can't recall that episode. Very funny, very slashy… Just look at how pissed Spock was about McCoy holding Eleen's hand. This story takes place about 3 years after that episode, in case you're wondering. 


	10. He Wavered

S'Brin

Disclaimer: I only wish they were mine. Pfft. But S'Brin, Simon, Tzu, and the Hernandez's are, so don't steal them!

Rating: The same.

Pairings: The same.

Reviews:

-BaNg bang-PunkLycanPlushie: Thanks, and here's my update. But you know, you can say a little more than that… If you like. Feedback is fun, but comments are better!

Allergic-To-Paradox: No. We don't. But he is fun when he's disconcerted, isn't he? And, no, not two weeks. Maybe. It could be less! Or not… This time it was about that much… Sorry.

Lord of the Shadows: Well, you'll find if you read this chapter that he isn't the _only_ possibility. Evil grin.

Kohaku-Kawa: Lord, friend, did you die? I've had the chapter up for ages! Anyway, for your understanding as well as everyone else's, no, they haven't told each other how they… I guess the missing word in there was … feel. But they haven't told each other how they dance the chicken dance in purple flippers either, if that was what you meant to say. I probably wouldn't tell people if I danced the chicken dance in purple flippers either. (Shifty eyes.)

((Author's Note: Commander Tzu says a very bad word, one that isn't the usual aresenal of swear words McCoy uses. Consider yourselves warned. And reviews would be nice. You know, I'll even write your name in my chapter and respond and everything. I heart reviews!))

* * *

Chapter 9: He Wavered

The next day everyone had either congratulated Spock on his new baby or gone to Sickbay to find out if the rumors were true. McCoy and M'Benga eventually got so swamped with visitors that they had to allot certain visiting hours so the baby could sleep and McCoy could recouperate without a pack of ensigns driving him wild.

"Heck, Len," M'Benga once commented, "I don't think it matters if we find the other father! It seems like the whole ship wants to adopt him!"

McCoy wasn't so sure. At least five blue-eyed junior officers came out of the nursery wringing their hands and wondering the same thing: _What if it's mine?_ Even men with brown eyes looked concerned, many folks had blue-eyed family members and quite a few of them were worried that they'd somehow offended Hernandez. Could he have given them this child out of spite? It could ruin a career officer, who, not wanting to leave the child in the hands of the foster homes, would have to resign their commision and try and learn to be a parent, or it could destroy any other relationships: how many women would believe that the child was a geneticly engineered baby and not the result of a one-night stand? True, some men looked hopeful, but they were few in number.

Even McCoy found himself wondering what he would do if the baby ended up being his. He was retiring anyway… If he could find a way to sort out his… _No_, Len told himself, _thinking like that would only get your hopes up and you know how that's always worked out for you_. So, instead of dwelling on who the parent might be, he finished his reports. It was quicker work than he expected, so he spent most of his time taking care of the little boy. His reasoning was that this way the nurses could deal more with patients and he could get some rest. M'Benga thought about not allowing him, but Christine pointed out that the baby needed attention, and tending to an infant had to be easier on McCoy than fretting over Hernandez's medical condition or getting mad because he couldn't patch up Scotty's latest burn or lecture Ensign DeSoto for not wearing her gloves in the lab again.

Spock came back to Sickbay while McCoy was sleeping that afternoon. He had commed a Vulcan healer to inquire about the bonds between parents and children. The news was not good.

He quickly walked into the nursery and took the baby gently from Lieutenant Uhura's arms.

"Would you give us some privacy, Lieutenant?"

"Sure, Mr. Spock. Congratulations, by the way. He's precious."

Spock was getting tired of hearing people congratulate him.

"Thank you."

She left and he took the baby's hand. "Hello, again, my son."

His mind could not truly enter the baby's mind; it's telepatic pathways were far too fragile and it could cause brain damage. Instead he searched for a groping tendril of thought – something the child had been emenating since he had woken in the incubation chamber. He took hold of it and could feel a sudden sense of security. It was not his own sense, he realized, but the baby's. Then contentment… It was difficult to keep the emotions separate from his own conciousness. He wavered slightly on his feet, but was quickly steadied by his vigorous control. He released the baby's hand and blinked.

"Fascinating."

"What is, Mr. Spock?" A rough, almost nasally voice said from behind him. Spock turned to see Commander Tzu looking at him.

"Hello, Commander. I was refering to my parental bond with my son."

Tzu shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Would the child's other parent have to bond with him, too?"

Spock looked at the baby. "Not unless I took a Vulcan mate. Then he or she could bond with him instead. But on his own, my son will only bond with his biological parent."

Tzu furrowed his brows. "I see. What are you going to do with the boy? Keep him? Give him up for adoption?"

"I believe I will let the child's other father decide if he wishes to keep the boy. I cannot."

Tzu walked over to Spock's side and looked at the baby. "He's raving mad."

"My son?" Spock asked, confused by the comment.

Tzu shook his head and crossed his arms. "No, Hernandez. He's insane."

"I believe, sir, that is why he was institutionalized."

"He was institutionalized for having a nervous breakdown and threatening to kill himself. I was refering to this… experiment of his." Tzu's tone was one of disgust.

Spock's expression did not show the offence Spock felt about hearing his son refered to like that. This feeling was not logical, the child _was_ the result of an experiment. It was not as though Spock had a mate. The baby began to fuss.

"The child is not harming anyone," Spock pointed out. "One can only be punished for conducting an experiment which proves harmful in some way."

"Not harming anyone?" Tzu barked, "Of course he's harmful! Look around! Half the men on this ship are on pins and needles, wondering what they'll do if the baby is theirs! Many of them have already written up their resignation forms, and the rest are horribly distracted from their work."

Spock blinked at Tzu and put the baby in his crib. "Why are you so upset, Commander? It would not be logical for you to be concerned about the running of this ship. You do not serve aboard her, and tommorow we will reach Starbase 12 and the child will no longer be of your concern."

"Unless he's mine." Tzu pointed out. Spock looked the short Asian man up and down and raised an eyebrow. "I know you're thinking that it's unlikely, but my mother was of American decent and she had blue eyes… I cannot afford a child. My wife would be furious and my career would be over, even if I gave the child up for adoption. The politics of being where I am… I'm trying to become Head of Starfleet Security. If I go home with an illigitamate child or even if I give it up for adoption, it won't matter. My political adversaries would be all over me; I'd never get promoted!"

Spock did not reply. The baby was wailing now.

"Hernandez told me when he was in his cell… He said I could use a baby to soften me a little bit. That I could stand to have to get to know someone for once." The commander straightened his shoulders and let his arms fall to his side. "I have a report to fill out, Mr. Spock. If this child turns out to be mine, I'm not going to bond with him."

"If you do not, the boy could suffer from serious psycological damage, even mental retardation."

Tzu shook his head. "I don't care. I won't let myself be connected to this… freak of nature. This faggot's dream come true. No," He spat and wheeled around. "Good day."

Spock did not look at the commander as he walked out of the room. The Vulcan's hands were shaking ever-so-slightly, even as he gripped the rail of the crib. Humans claimed that they were above hate and prejudice, but it seemed to Spock that that only applied when they were not faced with danger or discomfort. "Good day, Commander." The little boy sobbed a little and he turned his watery eyes up at Spock, almost pleading for him to feel better so he wouldn't feel sad, too. Spock raised his mental sheilds and the boy sniffled away another sob, now more at ease.

"Some people can be such pigs." A more familiar voice muttered.

"Hello, Doctor," Spock stated without turning to face him. "Has Dr. M'Benga been able to narrow down the list of potential fathers?"

"A bit, but it's still inconclusive. You'll be pleased to know that Jim isn't the father," McCoy joked, trying to lighten the mood. "And neither is Geoff."

Spock did not bother to comment. "Should you not be resting?"

"The baby woke me up, and I'm a light sleeper." McCoy walked over and picked the boy up, holding him close. "Shush, Blue. It's okay, that mean ol' man's gone. Yes he is… Doctor McCoy's gotcha, see?" McCoy asked gently tickling the baby with one finger. The little boy giggled and took hold of McCoy's long finger with a tiny green hand. McCoy wavered slightly and nearly fell over.

"Are you alright, Doctor?" Spock asked, quickly grasping McCoy's shoulder to steady him. McCoy's arms tightened around the baby, not wanting to drop him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. That shot's been playing havoc with my blood pressure all day. It was just mild vertigo, Spock."

Spock noticed that the baby was sound asleep in the doctor's strong arms. He blinked. _Where had that thought come from?_ McCoy cleared his throat. Spock dropped his hand.

"You should rest." He murmured. "I don't want you to drop my son."

McCoy nodded. Spock took the baby and bounced him in his arms trying to think about where these bizarre thoughts may have come from. Unfortunately, he couldn't focus; but for the most odd of reasons – his arms had brushed against McCoy's.

And it felt strangely, quite nice.

He would meditate on it the instant he could leave Sickbay.


	11. Being Needed

S'Brin

Redundant disclaimer: They still aren't mine.

Redundant pairings: Where have you been these past 10 chapters?

Redundant rating: Sigh.

Reviews:

BaNg-bAnG-LycanPunkRocker: I have no intention of abandoning this story after ten chapters without confirming or denying everyone's suspicions on whom the baby's father is. And I'm glad you're enjoying it!

Allergic-To-Paradox: Such a cliffie, but look, here's the next chapter! On the meditation… uh… Read the chapter… Actually, for all your guesses, read this chapter. Answering them here would defeat the purpose of having written it!

Quarksbar: I know you didn't actually submit a review, but I did get your private message and so I'm giving you a shout-out, too. As I said, this chapter is focusing on McCoy, just for you. The first part of the chapter is different, but you'll understand why.

Kohaku Kawa: I am most relieved that you aren't dead. I totally empathize with your homework woes… After the big reveal there will definitely be at least one sort of 'resolution' chapter, and maybe more…

Lord of the Shadows: I think this chapter begins to answer your questions/comments… Or perhaps I'm stealing your ideas for my chapters? Lol, no. I think I'll say great minds think alike and leave it at that.

((Inevitable Author's Note: It's a little angsty, but bear with me. It gets happier later on.))

* * *

Chapter 10: Being Needed

_The baby was crying. I slowly tried to rise and tend to him, but my mate was up first._

_"Don't worry; I'll get him. You go on back to sleep."_

_I nodded and rest my head on the pillow, watching my mate rise. He faded into the darkness and as he entered the baby's alcove, a light switched on. My mate picked the little one up, their silhouette interesting and pleasant. I could hear my lover humming an old Earth lullaby to the little one, and could see the shadow rocking back and forth. The baby's wails softened._

_I rose from the bed and replicated a bottle of formula. When I walked in the sight of my mate –shirtless and gently rocking our little one in his arms – stole my breath. I offered my love the bottle._

_"I thought I told you that you could sleep."_

_"I did not wish too. He is hungry."_

_"I know; I can feel it. Here," he replied taking the bottle and putting it into the baby's mouth. My mate half smiled at me. He looked tired, but peaceful nonetheless. I walked behind him and wrapped my arms around him, looking at our son._

_"He is so like you." I commented. My lover scoffed. "You cannot tell?"_

_"Vulcan ears, Vulcan blood, Vulcan telepathy – he's nothing like me."_

_"He has your eyes, Leonard."_

_My mate tensed in my grip…_

McCoy sat up right on his biobed, gasping for breath. For a moment he wondered where he was, but as his eyes adjusted to the dark he realized he was in Sickbay. If he was here, where had he been before? He closed his eyes and tried to remember, but he hadn't seen anything… Just himself holding little Blue… But he hadn't been himself at the time; he'd been Spock.

Len shivered at the memory. It felt so real. It must have been a dream. He had had dreams about himself and Spock for years, but this was over the top. It wasn't as physical, as base or sexual as all his previous dreams, but he knew it wasn't a memory. Unfortunately.

"You're focusing too much on fantasy, Len," He reminded himself. "The little one isn't yours, he can't be – and Spock… He won't be and you know it. He doesn't even want to be." He yawned. "It isn't logical."

He got up and went to a nearby sink and splashed his face with water. His hands were shaking. He knew he wasn't going to get any sleep any time soon. He went to the little one's nursery. The baby was sleeping contentedly. McCoy walked over and stroked a finger along the puffy cheek, getting a bit of drool on his finger in the process. He wiped it on his pants and sighed.

"Hope isn't logical either…" He muttered.

He stood there for a while, just watching the baby breathe and listening to the monitors beep in time to the boy's rapid heartbeat. It was comforting… He hadn't felt like this since Joanna had moved out of the house. Even when she was a teenager, occasionally he would crack her door just a tiny bit and watch her sleep. No matter how old she got, she was always her daddy's baby girl. Maryanne couldn't take her away in the custody hearing, and Starfleet couldn't keep him away when he was stationed on alien worlds. But now Joanna was all grown up… A nurse at Emory Hospital… Engaged – perhaps this Simon fellow was the one who took her from him; no, she was a grown woman. He didn't lose her. He was so proud of her but he felt useless, like he wasn't needed anymore.

Or he had until this little boy had been dropped into his Sickbay. Even if his career was winding down, even if his friends were going their separate ways soon, and even if he didn't have a snowball's chance in hell with convincing Spock not to leave for wherever he called it… There was someone now who needed him. It was a nice feeling.

A nice feeling he shouldn't even have. The baby wasn't his – he couldn't be. Hernandez hated him and the universe just didn't work that way. There's no way something so wonderful could happen to him. He didn't deserve it…

He heard the main Sickbay doors swoosh open.

"I'm in the Nursery, Geoff." McCoy whispered, not wanting to wake the baby or worry M'Benga.

"That is nice to know, but I am not Doctor M'Benga."

McCoy looked over his shoulder. Spock stood just inside the nursery. In the light of the monitors, the angles of his face looked sharper and his dark eyes looked more intense. McCoy looked quickly back at the baby, his face flushing for a reason he pretened not to understand. "Oh. What brings you here? Couldn't sleep?"

"I could not focus on my meditation." Spock corrected him. "I decided that I would tend to the child." He did not come over though. Out of the corner of his eye, McCoy thought Spock looked distracted, transfixed.

"He's sleeping peacefully. You should be, too. You have duty in a few hours…"

"Two point four two three hours…" Spock whispered. McCoy's shoulders tensed, but for once it wasn't because Spock's precision was annoying him, but the tenor of his voice… It sounded odd.

It sounded sensual.

"Well," McCoy said clearing his throat and trying to seem at ease, "_I _should be asleep then. My blood pressure is still going haywire and all these painkillers I'm on have me loopy." He tried to walk past Spock, but the Vulcan put his hand out, pressing it against McCoy's chest. He winced at the dull pain caused by the contact. Then McCoy looked into the Vulcan's eyes and saw something he's never seen directed at him before…

_Mine._

Len had seen Spock give Zarabeth that look, and T'Pring before her. It was an incredibly possessive look, one that spoke not just of ownership but also of something a great deal more intimate.

Len's only conclusion was that he was still dreaming.

"Good night Spock." He said very sadly. "I'll see you in the morning."

He pushed past Spock and lie back on his biobed.

Just as his eyes began to slide shut, he could hear the baby cry.

He wiped a tear off his own cheek and was quickly reclaimed by sleep.


	12. Blue

S'Brin 

Standard disclaimers, ratings, pairings, and summary apply.

Reviews:

Allergic to Paradox: Yes, it does get very tedious. You notice above I've just about done away with them altogether. Smooching is demanded? Who am I but your humble servant? I shall obey… Eventually.

Quarksbar: The shout out goes to you _and anyone else who has read and wants to review! **Hint**!_ No but seriously, Len's my favorite character too.

Lord of the Shadows: Not revealing the universe would be helpful. As for how awkward will things be… In the next chapter the awkwardness will grow exponentially. As for now, not so much. Sorry.

Aquamarine382: Cliffhangers make me so happy. I like using them, it keeps my readers on their toes.

Kohaku Kawa: I love writing Spock in love. It makes me swoon.

((Author's Note: I do not actually speak Vulcan. Ergo, my translation of the word "S'Brin" is merely for the sake of this story, and cannot be considered accurate.))

* * *

Chapter 11: Blue 

Spock watched the doctor lie on the biobed, slightly irritated that McCoy had not stayed longer—though he knew this irritation was illogical—then turned to look at the baby. The child was sleeping peacefully, but Spock could feel an overwhelming sadness probing at the edges of his mind. This sensation was not his own. He took a deep breath and focused on it, looking for the source, but as soon as he did the baby began to fuss. Spock sighed.

He reached for the little one and lifted him into his arms. The child reached over Spock's shoulder, trying to grasp something now too far away. Spock tried to comfort the little one with some success. He knew McCoy would have been more a comfort to the child, but he did not wish to wake the doctor just to calm a baby. Spock liked to think he was capable of silencing an infant without his mate's assistance.

_… No, Doctor McCoy is not my mate._

Why had he thought of such a strange notion? The baby began to wail. Spock sighed again and began to rock the baby. It was not logical for him to consider McCoy his mate, or even a potential mate. The good doctor greatly disliked him and they argued frequently. Simply being fond of his son was not a criterion for choosing McCoy as his mate.

_… Doctor McCoy liking **my** son is no criterion. There is no evidence to suggest the boy is anyone else's_. _My affection for the boy, no matter the parentage is irrelevant._

The baby wailed louder.

"If you continue along this mode of communication, you are going to disturb Doctor McCoy, and he is not well. Please be quiet." Spock told the baby.

The baby let out another wail.

"You are almost as bad as he is. You cannot even speak and yet you insist on arguing with me. If you keep this up, I will give you to Nurse Brady."

An ample threat: Nurse Brady, as well as Nurse Chapel, seemed to have a particular distaste for the little boy. Nurse Brady seemed to dislike him because the boy could potentially be his son; Nurse Chapel didn't like the boy because he _wasn't_ her son. The boy didn't like them because he could feel their distaste every time they tried to hold him.

The little boy seemed to sense the warning feeling Spock was giving him, and stifled his next wail, sobbing instead.

"Thank you. Try and get some rest, little one. I am sure when you wake, Doctor McCoy will play with you and perhaps Miss Uhura will visit as well. I must retire."

Uhura, unlike Brady and Chapel, absolutely adored the baby – almost as much as McCoy did. The baby grinned at the familiar sensation, then blinked sleepily at Spock in the dim light and in a few moments, he had dozed off in Spock's arms.

"I still attest that you cannot understand me." Spock stated, laying the boy in the crib. Then, with a quick glance over his shoulder, he pressed his forehead to the boy's tiny head, allowing feelings of comfort and contentment to wash between them. The gesture was a common Vulcan embrace between parents and small children. "Good night, my son."

Just as he began to leave Sickbay, he looked at the doctor, now deeply asleep on the biobed. He reached his hand out and gently placed it on the human's shoulder. A wave of sadness swept through him and he pulled his hand away as though burned. Could the feeling he received earlier have been McCoy's? If so, how? They were not bonded… It was a puzzlement, and Spock intended to ask Dr. M'Benga about it the next day.

When Doctor McCoy woke up again, Nurse Chapel was storming out of the Nursery, wiping her tunic with a tissue and holding a diaper in her other hand.

"Did he drool on you, Chris?"

"No." She grumped. "He was playing target practice. I think he was aiming for my insignia… or my eye."

McCoy snorted with laughter.

"It's not funny, Len!"

"Yes it is, Chris. Y'see, I had a daughter. I never had to worry about, ahem, 'target practice', but even I know you put an open diaper over the little guy before you change him!"

"Oh, well then, why don't_ you_ take care of this?" She snapped, thrusting the soiled diaper at McCoy. McCoy laughed and took it from her.

"Lord, is that a ripe stench." He laughed again and hopped off the biobed, taking the waste to a disposal unit. "Is the little guy changed?"

"Yes. I'm sure he misses you terribly. Why don't you make my life easier and play with him?" She was very sarcastic.

"You don't like lil' Blue?"

"I like him well enough but he seems to have some problem with me!" Chapel protested. "I've worked with babies for years, but this one takes the cake. It must be genetic. No one in that family likes me."

"Sarek and Amanda liked you," McCoy countered, washing his hands in a nearby sink.

Chapel grunted, and pushed McCoy away from the sink with her hip so she could wash her hands.

McCoy walked into the Nursery and looked at the little boy in the crib.

"Well, I hope you're proud of yourself. You hurt a lady's feelings. You may be a Vulcan, but that gives you no right to…" He faltered, stifling another laugh, "Um, disrupt a poor lady's composure."

The little boy made a spit bubble and giggled when it popped. McCoy felt a grin tugging at his lips.

"Well, I guess if you promise never to do it again…" He reached into the crib and picked the little boy up. "I'll let this one incident slide."

The baby clutched a tiny handful of McCoy's medical jumpsuit and rested his head on the doctor's shoulder, reaching with the other hand for the man's earlobe. McCoy offered him a finger instead. The little boy tried to put it in his mouth.

"Nuh-uh, now, I just washed my hands. Don't you go tryin' to gobble them up," McCoy joked.

"He cannot eat you; he has no teeth."

The comment reminded McCoy of his dream from the night before and he shivered at the memory. "Spock, you _can_ occasionally walk in and announce yourself, maybe even say 'hello' instead of trying to correct my musings to a tiny baby who can't understand a word I'm sayin'," McCoy sighed, rounding on the Vulcan.

"I was merely attempting to put your concerns to rest."

"Well, thank you, sir, but the attempt was not necessary. Aren't you supposed to be on duty?" He snapped.

"Jim suggested I come here because we are having a 'slow day'. Mr. Chekov is manning my station."

McCoy felt his face begin to flush. "Oh." He cleared his throat. "Well you missed the fun part. Poor Chris had to change Blue here, with rather disastrous results for her tunic."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "You still call him Blue?"

"You haven't named him." McCoy pointed out. Spock blinked.

"Ah." He stood closer to McCoy, scrutinizing the baby in his arms. McCoy shifted his weight uncomfortably at the sudden proximity of the Vulcan, but Spock ignored it.

Vulcans, much more so than Humans, put a great deal of stock in their names. They were not merely sounds associated with a certain individual, though many off-worlders thought that male names always began with an "S" sound and female names always began with the syllable "T'". This was not true, though it followed the traditional naming system. Names had to reflect an aspect of the child, or an aspect they were meant to attain. His own name was not something that could translate into Federation Standard, but the idea was that he was a 'balance,' or would attain a balance in his life. Both parents usually deliberated the name of a child for months before the child was born. Spock had no such luxury. He looked at the child, and while he could think of many things he wished his son could aspire to, he decided the most fitting name he could give the boy was one which described a particular aspect of the child.

"I shall call you 'S'Brin,'" he told the child, which was still sucking on McCoy's finger.

"That's a nice name," McCoy commented. "How do you spell it?"

Spock began to spell it in Vulcan characters. McCoy blinked at him.

"Sorry… How do you spell it in Federation Standard? Geoff needs to write it on the birth certificate."

"Ah. S-apostrophe-B-R-I-N."

McCoy walked out to his office, still holding the baby, and pulled over a datapadd. He repeated the letters as he transcribed them. "Gotcha. S'Brin, then. Bet you like that, don't you, little guy?"

The baby smiled blankly at McCoy, a bit of drool coming out of his mouth.

"He seems pleased." Spock said distantly, his face softer than its norm.

McCoy nodded. "Yeah…" He laid the baby back in the crib. "But you didn't name him something incredibly stupid, like 'test-tube,' did you?"

Spock furrowed his brows the tiniest bit. "Of course not, Doctor, not unless you did. 'S'Brin' translates directly into Federation Standard to mean 'blue.'"

McCoy half smiled and looked away, thinking to himself that it was, in a small way, kind of sweet.

* * *

((Author's Note 2: There has been a recent outbreak of fever on this website. Last time it struck, it lingered long and hard. Even this story had been marred by those scars. This time it hit a new author who did not deserve to get to afflicted. Help fight the flames! **Send in reviews of constructive criticism and support to any and every author you read the work of.** If you love a story, say so. If you hate it, explain what you think will improve it. People cannot change if they never know what they did wrong. Make this site a better place by showing that this disease will not be allowed to overwhelm us.)) 


	13. I Feel Nothing I Did Not Feel Before

S'Brin

Standard disclaimers, ratings, pairings, and summary apply.

Reviews:

(Un)fortunately, so many of you folks responded and with so much stuff, that I can't fit all my replies on one page anymore! Thanks to all of you: Allyp, Aquamarine, matchboxcars (a newcomer, huzzah!), Kohaku Kawa, and Lord of the Shadows. Y'all really hit on 3 points, so I'll address those instead of each individual comment.

I have to defend poor Spock on this point: He wasn't being sweet (yes he was), he just lacked creativity and so gave the baby the name McCoy had already given him, but made it in Vulcan because, really, what kind of dope would name his kid "Blue"? (And if you believe that, I'll sell you the Brooklyn Bridge for a quarter!)

For those of you who took my request about reviews seriously, thank you. The flamer has been off for a while, but the request still stands.

Finally, for those of you who complemented my writing skill… Aw! Thanks! (Blush)

((Author's Note: I'm not dead! Really! My muse was just not cooperating, but it is much happier now that it has been drowned in copious amounts of Easter candy…

Also note that numbers in parenthesis are 'footnotes' referring to specific episodes. The episodes referenced are listed at the bottom. Forgive the confusion.

On a final note, something was up with the site this weekend, so out of concern, I'm reposting the chapter. Not an update, really, unless you haven't read the chapter yet.))

* * *

Chapter 12: I Feel Nothing I Did Not Feel Before 

Geoff M'Benga was the xenobiologist in Sickbay, and while he wasn't Spock's primary physician, he was the 'go-to' guy for any and all alien problems the crew might be suffering from. Want to know how to get Spock out of a healing trance? (1) Ask M'Benga. Want an explanation as to how an alien killed a hapless ensign? (2) Ask M'Benga.

Want to know why Spock received a telepathic broadcasting of Dr. McCoy's emotions? You guessed it, ask M'Benga.

When McCoy was officially discharged from Sickbay, Spock pulled M'Benga off to the side to inquire about the strange occurrence the night before. M'Benga looked at him and frowned.

"You think he was broadcasting his feelings to you?"

"It is my hypothesis, yes."

M'Benga shook his head. "It's very unlikely, Spock. You know as well as I do that it shouldn't be possible. Sure, you've mind-melded with him more often than anyone else, but he's still human. Even a full Vulcan couldn't pick up a human's emotions without touching them, not unless they were bonded. I'll give it more thought, but Spock…"

"Yes, Doctor?"

"If he is upset, it's possible that you didn't glean this knowledge just from telepathy. Can't you tell when Captain Kirk is in a bad mood?"

"There is a distinct difference between observing the behavior patterns to determine their emotional status and being able to sense telepathically that someone is experiencing extreme sorrow and regret."

"You know for sure that you were using your telepathy to sense this, then?"

"Yes."

M'Benga folded his arms, "There is one other possibility," he began, drawing on an idea that had sprung to mind when McCoy had told him earlier about the events this morning, "Vulcan children do form telepathic bonds with their parents. S'Brin may have formed such a bond with—"

"Doctor McCoy has not been confirmed as S'Brin's other biological father," Spock interrupted.

"Nor has the possibility been denied. You may only work off a computer's results, but little S'Brin might have already clued in on it the moment he saw Len."

Spock went to look at the computer monitor where negative results were popping up at a fairly slow rate. He was relieved to see that Commander Tzu had officially been ruled out.

"Spock," M'Benga asked, "so far the only thing you've felt regarding McCoy has been sadness, right? You haven't been getting any other notions regarding him, have you?"

"What sort of notions do you mean?"

"Possessiveness… Or passion. Any romantic feelings you didn't feel before S'Brin came aboard."

Spock hesitated. He wasn't sure. Months ago, right up until Hernandez had accused him of being McCoy's lover, he had never considered the abrasive human as a potential mate, but the accusation had planted the seeds of curiosity in his mind. Such curiosity was common for him, he had considered at least five of the command officers – including Jim – as potential mates before, but within a matter of days (and in the case of Jim, minutes- the man was simply too "straight") he had completely dismissed the notion. But with McCoy, things became awkward.

His initial thoughts on the matter were that it would be impossible; the two of them were simply too different in philosophies and personalities, and they argued to the point of no return. Further meditation on the matter had revealed that the doctor had heeded a number of Spock's comments, from the philosophical by using logic in non-scientific cases, to the practical by changing the formula of certain painkillers to keep Spock from becoming nauseous when he used them. Though he was not certain these changes were evidence of anything further than close friendship, they did prove that the two of them could move beyond their differences and work with one another.

But as the days and weeks passed, work matters took precedence in his mind. He chose not to dally on emotional concepts and focused on more important matters. Stars needed to be charted, Klingons needed to be thwarted, and ambassadors had to be escorted. Emotions and the dalliance on them were not logical. He had made plans, even before the five year mission began, to return to Vulcan after his service was completed and to study Kohlinar at Gol, so he new he had to master his control.

Until Hernandez escaped, he had all but forgotten about his consideration of McCoy. Perhaps it was the memory of Hernandez's accusation, perhaps it was because his irrational human half had grown attached to the expressive doctor, or perhaps because of something Spock could not define, but when Commander Tzu told Jim of Hernandez's escape, Spock's thoughts went instantly back to his previous train of thought regarding the doctor.

And when McCoy had been shot…

Spock clenched his fists. That had all been before he'd bonded with S'Brin. But the question wasn't whether or not he considered McCoy a potential mate, the question was: did he now feel anything for the human that he had not felt before S'Brin came aboard?

Possessiveness?

_McCoy looked absently past them and asked if they were of the body. His mind had been taken, and Landru had taken it. When the Lawgivers came to address them Spock had struck one of them, rather than simply nerve-pinching him. Neither he nor Jim understood Spock's reaction…_(3)

Passion?

_A powerful emotion indeed… His second eyelids had opened and the first thing he beheld was McCoy's face. Neither of them said anything, but Spock's expression must have changed because McCoy laughed and slapped Spock on the shoulder before leaving for the bridge. Spock touched his shoulder and soon was back on his feet and headed toward his station._ (4)

"No, Doctor. I feel nothing for McCoy that I did not feel before…" Spock decided as he walked out of M'Benga's office and headed out of Sickbay.

* * *

1 A Private Little War 

2 That Which Survives

3 The Return of the Archons

4 Operation, Annihilate!


	14. His Mind Will Grasp Yours

S'Brin

Disclaimer: Just like with the rest of the story, I don't own anyone except S'Brin.

Pairing: S/Mc

Rating: T (Note! Not K+ like the others! You have been warned.)

Reviews:

Kohaku-Kawa: Yes, Canon is definitely a wonderful thing to have on hand when dealing with slashy pairings.

Dodie: Look- A new chapter! And thanks for reading the comics. I ought to write a new one at some point…

Self: I think when I said 'a little while' I meant a month or so. Not three. D'oh.

Lord of the Shadows: You cannot hug Spock, but why don't you huggle S'Brin instead? He likes hugs.

AllyP: I am sorry for confusing you. Look, I wrote more S'Brin. Does this mean you'll write more Rerun?

Nerfi-Tiri: I suppose for you this is a soon update… Others may not agree… Apologies!

((Author's Note: Ack! Yes, I know, three + months is entirely too long to put this off! But it underwent an overhaul. The plan was to have two versions of the chapter, one more adult than the other. In the end, my smut muse ran away and I got writers block. Then I got a job in retail. Then school started, and I'm still working retail. But chapter 14 will be along soon! I hope.))

* * *

Chapter 13: His Mind Will Grasp Yours

Spock slipped into his quarters and took a deep breath. He rarely had a chance to simply rest any more; he spent most of his time working or with S'Brin, and when he wasn't doing that, he was sleeping. It surprised him somewhat that an infant could elicit such exhaustion from a fully-grown man.

Spock did not find the work required to keep S'Brin healthy and calm exhausting so much as the work required to keep the child's emotions from overwhelming him. True, the child only felt simple emotions but he felt them strongly and completely. Spock needed to meditate. He knelt on the floor and lit the firepot.

He chanted, clearing his mind. As before, it was difficult to find his center, but now he was able to recognize his son's mind. He blocked it away and breathed.

_His head ached, but then again, so did the rest of him. He had hoped this wouldn't happen to him, but hope was only an emotion and could hardly be expected to save someone from the drives of biology. He got off the turbolift._

_"Oh, Spock, good you're here. Just lie down on the biobed and I'll…"_

_"Doctor, my orders were to report to Sickbay. I have now done so, so if you will excuse me,"_

_"I have my orders too, damnit, and they are to give you a thorough physical so just-" His words were cut off as Spock grasped him by the throat._

"It did not happen like that," Spock growled, trying to dissipate the imagry.

_He pressed his mouth to McCoy's hungrily. The human grasped his forearm and wrist. Spock loosened his grip on the man's throat, but would not let him pull away. He briefly allowed him to catch a breath. _

_McCoy looked enraged. "Have you gone insane?!" _

_"In a fashion," Spock stated, this time pushing the human onto the biobed. McCoy flailed, managing to kick Spock in the gut. Such a blow would not have injured the Vulcan normally, but in this state he was more vulnerable._

_"Get off me, damnit! Do you think it's that easy?"_

This whole experience was absurd, but that comment especially.

_"I need…"_

_"And I want. I'm not a Vulcan, Spock." McCoy sat up, his blue eyes soft. He slid off the biobed and put his hand on Spock's face. "You don't have to take me. I'm yours."_

_This was a kiss- quite different from what he had done before to the man. His fever seemed to fade, replaced with a more gentle heat, which caused Spock to sigh against McCoy's lips._

"I will not let this desire rule me… I am a Vulcan. Emotion is a thing of the mind; the mind can be controlled."

His mind was not cleared… Spock stood and walked into his bathroom.

"Perhaps Doctor M'Benga was correct… If S'Brin has bonded with McCoy that would explain why I am feeling his sorrow…"

He knew that did not explain his other feelings regarding the doctor.

"He is _not_ my mate."

_But…_ He thought to himself,_ He is the father of my son. That would not be if he were not my mate._

"No… That is not logical. I have no proof that McCoy is S'Brin's other parent, and even if I did, the boy was created in a test tube, not because of any sexual act between Leonard … Doctor McCoy and myself." He corrected himself.

As the words left his mouth, the image of McCoy kissing him came to mind, and Spock had to slam his fist on the bathroom counter to pull his mind away from the thought.

* * *

McCoy groaned when the door-chime rang. He hadn't been able to sleep in his own bed for almost a week, and pulling his self away from it was almost a Herculean labor.

"What?" He spat at the door as it slid open. Nurse Chapel was smiling at him.

"Only three more prospects for the computer to weed through."

McCoy's stomach leapt up into his throat. "Was that cause for you to wake me up?"

"Maybe not in itself, but,"

"But nothing, Chris! I haven't been able to sleep in my own bed for four nights, plus I'm still taking those painkillers."

"You're still on the list, Len. S'Brin could be your son."

McCoy stopped mid-rant. "Then let's go, shall we?"

Christine smiled at him.

McCoy couldn't decide if he was excited or depressed about walking down to Sickbay. M'Benga was walking beside two younger men, Ensign Roanoke and Lieutenant Finney. Both of them looked to be in good condition, and both had blue eyes. McCoy swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Nurse Regan went to get Mr. Spock, gentlemen. If you two would please sit in Doctor McCoy's office, we will join you shortly." M'Benga told the two men. McCoy bounced on his heels. Roanoke and Finney exchanged a nervous glance, but followed Chapel into Sickbay.

"Neither of them wants the boy." M'Benga said, shaking his head.

"Well, neither does Spock, really." McCoy pointed out.

"True, which is one reason I have to ask you this. Len, if it turns out S'Brin is your son, do you have the means and the desire to care for him? I know you're retiring soon, but not for a few more months. We can't have a baby on the ship for that long."

McCoy's heart was pounding. He had never considered seriously that S'Brin would be his son. It was a faint hope that he hadn't let himself dwell on.

"I'll have to make a call or two. I want to keep him. If I can't make ad hoc arrangements, I'll resign. Geoff," McCoy put a hand on M'Benga's shoulder, "Y'all aren't just trying to make me feel better with this, are you?"

"What, raise your hopes only to dash them cruelly? C'mon, Len. Have some faith in us." Geoff smiled gently. "Oh, by the way, remind me to contact Ambassador Sarek and Lady Amanda later."

"I thought Spock doesn't want S'Brin."

"He doesn't, but as Spock's son he is still a member of their clan. Vulcans are big on lineage."

"Oh," McCoy muttered noncommittally.

"Are you two coming?" Christine asked, poking her head out from the Sickbay doors.

"Still waiting on, oh, here he is." M'Benga said waving Spock and Nurse Regan over. "Please come on in, gentlemen – and lady," he amended with a smile to the nurse.

McCoy tried to meet Spock's eyes to get a feel for what he was thinking, but the Vulcan seemed distracted. They all walked into Sickbay. Roanoke and Finney looked up at them. Finney swallowed a lump in his throat.

"Nurse Chapel told us we'd have to form a bond with the baby. How do we do that?"

Spock blinked and looked at the lieutenant. "You will simply have to let S'Brin do it. If there is difficulty, I will assist, but his mind will likely grasp to yours as readily as he will grasp your finger with his hand."

Finney and Roanoke exchanged a glance. "Will we, I don't know, be like, married to you if we do this? I've heard Vulcans form bonds with their partners…" Roanoke began, "And you see, I'm already married,"

There was a sudden tension in the room. For a moment, everyone thought they had offended Spock with that statement. S'Brin began to wail.

"I will tend to him." Spock said and left the office, leaving only an awkward silence in his wake. M'Benga cleared his throat.

"It is not like that," he stated. "The bond will only exist between you and S'Brin. I suppose you would be aware of Spock on some peripheral level, but it will not be direct."

Finney and Roanoke looked relieved.

The computer chirped. "Match found."

McCoy felt as though the room was suddenly charged with electricity. "Display match, computer."


	15. Why Don't You Go See For Yourself

S'Brin

Disclaimer: Just like with the rest of the story, I don't own anyone except S'Brin.

Pairing: S/Mc

Rating: K+

Reviews:

Nerfi-Tiri, Ster-J, Trogdortrekkie, and Shadowcat15: Erm, sorry about the cliffie? In my best effort not to make y'all suffer, I have written this very quickly.

Allyp: Blech, mPreg is… difficult to say the least. Difficult to write, difficult to read, difficult to believe… I hope this story hasn't been like that.

((Author's Note: See, look, I told you it would be up soon. Also, the rest of the story has been edited for typos and general formatting problems. If you see any that remain, please tell me. Oh, and angst warning. Mustn't forget the angst.))

* * *

Chapter 14: Why You Go See For Yourself 

Spock held S'Brin close to him, whispering quietly to the boy in Vulcan. He knew the child was feeling his tension regarding the bond. He knew the three men in the room to be good men who would bond with S'Brin no matter what effects it had on their relationships with Spock, but he still wished it were not a factor. All of this emotional chaos would make him one of the most unlikely candidates for Kohlinar. If he could not find peace there, where else would it lie?

S'Brin tried to suck on his father's uniform.

"No. My uniform is not a pacifier or a bottle. It does not belong in your mouth." He prodded the boy's cheek. The baby sucked on Spock's finger instead. Spock did not sigh.

He heard the computer chirp. "Match found."

S'Brin blinked up at Spock, who pulled his finger from the boy's mouth and bounced the infant in his arms.

"Display match, computer," he heard McCoy say.

There was a long silence, then the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and a dull thud.

"Doctor!" Finney cried out, "Are you okay?"

"Just… Just vertigo…"

"Here Len, let me help you up," M'Benga cautioned.

"No, it's okay. I'm all right." The good doctor didn't sound as irritated as he normally would have from missing a chair. Spock looked over at the doorway. For a moment nothing happened.

McCoy came up to the door. He looked like he was trying to keep a straight face. His eyes shone, and he looked more alive than he had in nearly a week. His mouth quirked, and he began to laugh. He quickly strode over to Spock and gently lifted S'Brin from his arms.

"Doctor?"

"Oh, you delightful baby… Oh, you amazing boy!" McCoy cooed at S'Brin, apparently oblivious to Spock's presence. The baby giggled and McCoy kissed the infant's face repeatedly. Spock put his hand on the human's shoulder.

"You?" Spock asked. McCoy looked up at him, grinning as though he would never be sad again. He shrugged one shoulder to the doorway.

"Why don't you go see for yourself?"

Spock didn't think he needed to, but he nevertheless left the nursery and went into McCoy's office. Finney and Roanoke looked relieved, and M'Benga looked pleased. Only Nurse Chapel seemed pensive, but she was smiling politely. The computer monitor was showing a strain of DNA labeled, "S'Brin," and matching portions of it to another strand.

A strand labeled, "McCoy, Dr. Leonard H." Spock's heart pounded and his spirits rose, but he calmly placed his hands behind his back, raised an eyebrow and said, "Ah."

The humans laughed. It was nice to break the tension, nice to finally have the answer to the long unanswered question. Spock wanted to control his heart and dispel the joy pulsing through him, but something – whether his human half, or the bond with his son – prevented him from doing so.

He walked back into the nursery, where McCoy was still babbling nonsensical compliments to S'Brin.

"Congratulations, Doctor," Spock stated.

McCoy looked over at Spock and grinned again. "I'm a daddy."

That was, Spock thought, one of the most redundant statements he had ever heard.

"Even if S'Brin were not your son, that would be true. You already have a daughter."

McCoy's smile didn't falter. "Come here and look at my baby, Spock. At," he hesitated and laughed, "our baby. Boy, I never thought those words would ever come out of my mouth."

Spock stood beside McCoy. "Nor did I." He looked at S'Brin, who was cooing with pleasure and contentment. He had such blue eyes and a warm smile. McCoy offered S'Brin a finger to hold onto and gazed lovingly at the boy.

"You know, I wanted him to be mine the moment I saw him… And he is, Spock, he's my little boy."

Spock looked at McCoy. He wondered briefly how anyone could have supposed S'Brin would be any other person's son. "I know."

McCoy's grin faded. "I need to call Joanna."

"Why?"

McCoy smiled softly. "Well, for one thing, to tell her she has a baby brother. For another, I need to ask her… I mean, if she can't watch him until the end of the mission, I'll have to resign. I couldn't bear to put him in foster care." He swallowed, and then looked at Spock. "I'll need all the help I can get. Spock," he stopped mid sentence. His eyes were pleading.

Spock looked away. All the joy he had been feeling upon knowing who S'Brin's father was was quickly being overwhelmed by guilt. "I am sure you will be an excellent father to our son."

McCoy's shoulders slumped somewhat. He walked over and put S'Brin in his crib. "Spock," he whispered. Spock did not look at him. He couldn't. There were too many conflicting emotions. McCoy put a hand on Spock's cheek and angled the Vulcan's face toward him. "You could be an excellent father, too, Spock."

Spock doubted it. In all likelihood he would end up attempting to pressure S'Brin the same way he had been pressured by Sarek. He would be too cold. McCoy always said he could out-Vulcan the Vulcans. He did not want that for his son.

"I cannot sacrifice my career…"

"You may not have to."

"And when this mission is over I am going to Gol."

McCoy dropped his hand and glared. "Why? What in God's name could be more important at Gol than taking care of your son?"

Spock did not answer. He knew his response would only upset McCoy more. He wanted to stay with his son and his friend. He couldn't stay, because being around them made him burn and made him feel and none of that was logical.

McCoy must have seen something in Spock's eyes, because he stopped glaring. Spock's gaze did not falter.

"You really don't know what to do with a warm, decent feeling, do you?"

The last time McCoy had said that, Spock had almost believed he could refute him. He did, after all, understand friendship. And McCoy had understood that and let the subject drop. But now, staring at the man who was his son's father and yet was not his mate, all understanding seemed to leave him. It was not right. It was not logical.

He leaned in and touched his mouth to McCoy's. He had never kissed someone before without being under the influence of things he could not control. A part of him told him this was no different. His instincts were going haywire, as humans would say, and he was no longer certain how to regard his sometimes friend.

Spock pulled back. The humans on the ship would probably have defined the kiss as chaste or childish. A "peck on the lips", as it were. McCoy briefly put a hand to his mouth and looked thoughtful.

"I have to leave," the Vulcan whispered. McCoy closed his eyes and shivered. Spock did not notice a temperature change. "I have to go because I cannot find control. I am not myself."

McCoy's fists clenched and he seemed to be swallowing down all the hurt he was feeling. "I want you to stay."

Spock gently put a finger under McCoy's chin and kissed him again. This time McCoy kissed him back. Spock was trying to apologize. McCoy was trying to persuade.

In the end, neither was successful.


	16. They Left

S'Brin

Disclaimer: Just like with the rest of the story, I don't own anyone except S'Brin.

Pairing: S/Mc

Rating: K+

Reviews:

Ster-J: I'm glad you were happy and sorry you suffered from angst. But isn't this roller-coaster fun?

Nerfi-Tiri: Aww! Thanks!

Allyp: Well, you've been begging for it since chapter 11, who am I but your humble servant? And yes, there was angst. Don't say I didn't warn you!

T3: As a fish, I happen to be an expert on flukes, and my being ahead of you ain't no fluke! Plus, you were going to misspell infinitely. So there. You people had best be glad for T3 though, because without her this story may have never gotten updated! She beta's my work and bugs the hell out of me to write more. Huggles T3.

Kohaku Kawa: Nope, not the ending. This chapter isn't even the ending. There is an epilogue and… Well, it's not really the end either.

Shadowcat15: I live to serve.

Trogdortrekkie: Here! More!

Cyranothe2nd: Logic has little to do with it… Plus, I don't think he's quite as selfless at this point as you do. Unfortunately. But variety is the spice of life, so I'm glad you're willing to look at the scenario differently than me.

Lord of the Shadows: Woo! You're back! Huggles! Stick around, you make this stuff more entertaining!

((Author's Note: This is a long chapter. Resolutions ought to be long enough to answer the important questions. Glares angrily at J.K. Rowling. What? Oh, never mind. Anyway, Emory, which is mentioned by McCoy, is a hospital in Atlanta.))

* * *

**Chapter 15: They Left**

They had finally reached Starbase 12. There was really nothing else to say about it, from McCoy's point of view. After what happened in Sickbay, all he wanted to focus on was taking care of his son.

His son… God, that felt so good to think.

He'd called Joanna. She'd had mixed feelings about the situation. She was thrilled to have a sibling, but was rather surprised to find out that she would have to take care of the boy until he could retire.

_"A little brother! That's wonderful! Who's his momma? I didn't know you were seeing anyone! You cad, you." She had laughed._

_"I'm not seeing anyone, sweetheart. Someone genetically engineered the boy from my DNA."_

_"Oh my God…Then, wait, who's the other parent?"_

_"My coworker, Spock. Look, sweetheart, I need to ask you a favor."_

_"Sure."_

_"Could you… I don't know, baby-sit him for a while? I retire in a few months, but I can't keep S'Brin on the ship for that long. It's too dangerous."_

_"Baby-sit an infant for three months? Dad, you know better than me that watching children is completely different from raising them, and the first three months of an infants life are,"_

_"I know, but there's no alternative. The only other thing I can do is resign."_

_"Not three months before you retire! That would be ridiculous. But what about Simon?"_

_"Your fiancé?"_

_"Yes. I… I couldn't put my relationship with him on hold."_

_"Oh, baby, I'm not asking you to. If you can't take care of S'Brin…"_

_"No! Daddy, don't. I guess," She laughed harshly, "I guess if Simon won't help me baby-sit my own brother, he's probably not going to be a good father for my kids."_

_"What about your job? Will Emory let you take enough time off?"_

_"Family leave? Definitely. I'll call Simon and Dr. Richards right away."_

_"Thanks so much, sweetheart. I'll make it up to you, I promise."_

_She waved her hand dismissively, "You don't have to. I owe you everything. You always put me before everything else__ I think I can take a page outta your book and put my baby brother before me. Where and when can I pick him up?"_

_"We're stopping at Starbase 12 tomorrow, but if you need, I can stay for a few days so you can get over,"_

_"Starbase 12? That's great! That's right along the route the _Blue Moon_ is taking to Boralis 6."_

_"The _Blue Moon_?"_

_"Simon's freight ship. He's the pilot. I'm sure I can get passage. I've got to go call Simon. The ship disembarks in three hours. I'll see you tomorrow!"_

_"Wait, what if you can't get aboard?"_

_"Pfft, I'll get aboard. Simon can't tell me no. He's such a big softie."_

She was so confident and sure of herself, just like he could be. He knew she'd come through for him. He hoped he could meet Simon.

His daughter's love life was easier to think about than his own convoluted one. He tried not to dwell on the kiss he and Spock had shared in Sickbay. He concentrated on his son, his duty, his daughter, and his job… Anything but those warm lips against his.

He had brought S'Brin to the transporter room. Spock had come as well, to thank Joanna for her help. Well, that's what Spock had said he'd come for, though McCoy suspected that he had come to see S'Brin one last time. The _Blue Moon_ had docked an hour after the _Enterprise_ had. McCoy rocked S'Brin in his arms tenderly. In three months, the little one would be so much bigger. He felt tightness in his throat.

Spock put a hand on McCoy's shoulder, a gesture that would have seemed uncommon two weeks ago. The Vulcan looked very pensive.

"Doctor… I know I have no right to ask you this," Spock began. McCoy tightened his hold on S'Brin as he felt his spine stiffen. "But I must. Will you… Will you please speak well of my people to our son? Will you allow S'Brin to feel as much pride for being part Vulcan as for being part human?"

_Because every day you stay alive is another chance for that human half of yours to peek out… (1)_

McCoy looked at Spock with an almost guilty expression. He knew how much ridicule and pressure Spock had had to endure for being half human. "I don't want to make him choose which heritage he follows." He didn't want S'Brin to feel as lost as Spock did. He couldn't do that to his son.

"I know you do not."

"But I will," McCoy paused, licking his lips. "I will speak well of you. And your people."

Spock's grip tightened, and then he let his hand drop.

Scotty looked at them from behind the transporter controls. "Energizing," he said quietly. Spock nodded at him.

Within a moment a thin, redheaded woman with very blue eyes stood before them. McCoy smiled and Spock raised an eyebrow. The young woman ran over hand put her arms around McCoy's shoulders for a second, then stepped back.

"Hey, Daddy!" She looked down at the baby in McCoy's arms and cooed. "Oh, he's precious."

"Hey, sweetheart." McCoy said with a smile. "Spock, this is my daughter, Joanna. Joanna, my friend Spock. You already know Scotty."

"Aye," the Scotsman replied with a grin. Joanna smiled, and then bowed her head politely at Spock. "Nice to meet you, sir."

Spock nodded at her.

Joanna looked back at S'Brin. "May I hold him?"

"Oh, sure!" McCoy laughed and handed the resting infant to his sister. The baby slowly lifted his lids and gurgled sleepily. Joanna smiled, and the baby cooed.

"He's absolutely precious." She looked at Spock. "You must be very pleased."

McCoy crossed his arms and looked away. "Spock is a Vulcan, Joanna," He stated. "I'm sure he is, uh," he tried to think of a word that didn't connote an emotion. Nothing was forthcoming though.

"My son is a great pleasure to me, Miss McCoy." Spock interjected, looking at his friend very gently. "A gift I cannot accept and do not deserve."

McCoy pointedly did not look at Spock. Joanna, on the other hand, fixed her eyes – her father's eyes – on the Vulcan. They were piercing and expressive, conveying everything her father refused to let the Vulcan see in his own eyes. Accusation, defensiveness, hurt, and pride gleamed in those blue eyes. The Vulcan did not look away, but he did blink.

Joanna looked back down at her brother. "Oh, Daddy! He's got the McCoy eyes."

The doctor beamed.

Spock put his hands behind his back, standing at ease. "I would invite you to stay, but I am told the _Blue Moon_ must depart soon."

"You're right. Say, why didn't Simon come aboard?"

"He had to stay at the helm. The _Blue Moon_ has to leave in fifteen minutes." She bounced S'Brin in her arms and looked at her father. "Oh, Daddy, I wish I could stay longer."

McCoy put his arms around her and kissed her cheek. "I'll see y'all real soon. Go on now."

"We'll see you in a few months. Say 'bye-bye' S'Brin." She cooed at her brother. The baby reached up and grabbed a lock of her long, red hair.

"Bye, sweetheart. Bye-bye, little Blue."

"Good bye, my son." Spock said softly, surprising McCoy.

Joanna stepped up onto the transporter pad. "Energize, Scotty." Scotty worked the controls and McCoy's children disappeared from sight. The doctor coughed once and bowed his head.

Spock looked at McCoy. "She seems a good woman."

"Yeah." McCoy replied, his voice tight. Spock stared at him for a moment, and almost without realizing it, put his arm around the human's shoulders.

"And you shall see them soon, Doctor."

"You don't need to try and comfort me, Spock," the human whispered, nudging the Vulcan playfully with his elbow. Spock said nothing.

"D'ya want me to tell Commander Tzu that he can bring the Hernandezes in?" Scotty asked.

Spock dropped his arm and McCoy nodded curtly.

Tzu and one of the Enterprise's security officers led the Hernandezes into the chamber. Chaz was holding Ivan's hand. Tzu had restrained Jeraldo's hands with cuffs.

"Permission to disembark, Mr. Spock?" Tzu asked.

Spock nodded. "Granted."

Tzu tried to lead Jeraldo to the transporter pad, but the wild-eyed scientist resisted, wrenching his body around to face Spock and McCoy.

"You made it, _Papi_," the man said, aghast.

"I did, Jeraldo." McCoy stated, crossing his arms.

"And where is the little one?"

"He's going home."

"Home? Where?" Hernandez tried to pull away from Tzu, but the commander held him fast.

"With his sister, my daughter."

Jeraldo's eyes widened with disbelief. "You're keeping the baby? You?" He grinned. "I told you, _senor_, I was just trying to help people like you," He said, looking at Spock.

Spock looked down.

"I told you, Jeraldo," Chaz whispered. "You can't just play god and make everything all better."

Jeraldo's shoulders slumped. "Then the experiment was not a complete success."

McCoy's eyes burned with sudden rage. "An experiment! You bastard! Is that what you call it? You shot me and toyed with the heads of every man on this ship! You brought an innocent child into this world without even considering the consequences to do what? To prove a point?" McCoy lunged at the former lieutenant, but Spock caught him by the shoulder.

"Doctor, calm yourself," The Vulcan ordered. McCoy rounded on him, glaring.

"How can you just stand there? I've seen what this ordeal has done to you!"

Spock met McCoy's eyes. "Yes. You have. And you have held our son. Has that been so bad that you would attack a defenseless man and end up in a penal colony for fifteen to twenty tears, never seeing your son again?"

McCoy swallowed a lump in his throat.

The security officer led the other Hernandez's to the transporter pad and then stepped down.

"Energize, Mr. Scott." Tzu said. Within moments, they were all gone.

"I'm needed in engineering, lads." Scotty said, leaving. McCoy still hadn't taken his eyes off Spock.

"We are also required on duty." The Vulcan stated.

"Spock, I…" McCoy started, and then shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Because you were right. It wasn't bad… It was wonderful." He sighed. "And I wouldn't have traded it for anything."

Spock nodded. McCoy then stepped in and gently kissed the Vulcan. Spock put his hands on the doctor's shoulders and after a brief second pushed him away. They both knew it wasn't something they should indulge in. They had to remember their duty for now, and later they would both be leaving – the one to Earth, the other to Vulcan. But, for a brief time, they had been at home there in Sickbay with their son and each other.

"I am required on the bridge, Doctor."

McCoy nodded, and they both left.

* * *

_(1) Bread and Circuses_

((Author's Note 2: Stick around for the epilogue. Then I suggest watching Star Trek: The Motion Picture. Yes, very crucial you do that. Especially if you want my sequel to make any sense. ))


	17. Epilogue

S'Brin

Disclaimer: Just like with the rest of the story, I don't own anyone except S'Brin.

Pairing: S/Mc

Rating: K+

Reviews:

TrogdorTrekkie: Behold, the true ending of the story. Not the series, but the story.

Nerfi-Tiri: Aww, cheer up. Things get better.

Allyp: Here's to questions being answered and smooches being shared. Here here!

Kohaku-Kawa: So glad you're excited! I know I am.

Lord-of-the-Shadows: Please cheer up! Everyone's so sad! Hopefully this chapter will help the story end on a happier note.

((Author's Note: The epilogue takes place about two years after Chapter 15. Yes, there is a sequel on the way. I reiterate, after you read this, go watch the Motion Picture. It makes the ending a lot happier. For all of you who have just clicked the double arrows and shown up here on the epilogue, do me a favor and reread the prologue and Chapter 4: Thirty Seconds Too Late. I've added two sub-chapters to them. They really help clarify the story. Thanks muchly! Also, all my thanks to everyone who reviewed and helped encourage me to continue despite flamers, homework, and the hell of retail. Enjoy the end of the story.))

* * *

**Epilogue**

"What color is this, Brin-Brin?" Joanna McCoy asked, waving a ribbon in front of her two-year-old brother's bright, happy face. The toddler grasped for it eagerly with pudgy hands and a giggle.

"Wed! Wibbon wed!"

"That's right!" Joanna cheered, "Now, what are Jo-Jo and Simon going to do this summer?"

"Wed!" S'Brin squealed, putting his hands in front of his mouth.

Joanna fought back a laugh and reached over and started tickling the little one, who cried out with laughter and surprise.

"What are you two doing in here?" McCoy asked as he walked into the dining room from the living room. He had dust smudged into his sweater from when he had pulled boxes of Christmas decorations out of the top of Joanna's closet.

"Daddy! Hee-hee, Jo-Jo's ticklin' me!" S'Brin gasped as he tried to squirm away from his sister's grasp.

McCoy grinned, but hid it as he scratched his beard. "Herm, well, Joanna…" He said sternly.

"Yes, Daddy?" The woman replied innocently.

""Give the kid a break," McCoy laughed, no longer able to maintain his serious façade.

"Aww," Joanna sighed with a fake pout. She pulled her fingers away from her brother's tummy and picked up a padd to show McCoy. "Alright, I've finished all of my invitations."

McCoy took the padd and scanned it quickly. "Can I see the stack?"

"No," Joanna stated, swatting McCoy's knee with her hand, "You'll probably take Momma's invitation out."

"I'd do no such thing!" McCoy laughed with surprise.

Joanna grinned gently. "It'd do you no good anyway, 'cause I've already asked her personally to attend and to help me pick out my dress."

"Joanna," McCoy said seriously, sitting next to his daughter and putting a hand on her knee, "Whatever problems your mother and I had, she's still your momma. She looked lovely in her wedding dress, and I just know you'll look lovely in yours."

Joanna's eyes began to well up and she hugged her father tightly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the ribbon she'd been playing with slip away from the table.

"Daddy!" S'Brin laughed waving the ribbon about like a victory banner, "Look it! I got it!"

"You little thief!" Joanna laughed wiping her eye as she turned to look at her brother. "Now give it back. I need to put it on my last invitation."

"No!" The boy snapped, pulling the ribbon tightly to his chest. "Wanna give it to Ny."

"Miss Nyota isn't coming over today, kiddo," McCoy explained, "She's at Starfleet briefing for the _Enterprise_ refit."

"Can we go see?" S'Brin pleaded, his blue eyes wide with wonder. "Scotty say I his assis'int."

"Not today, son. Don't you want to come help me decorate for Christmas?"

"No! Wanna go see _Entapwise_!"

"I tell you what, Brin-Brin," Joanna said soothingly, stroking S'Brin's dark hair, "You help Daddy decorate for Christmas, and tomorrow, you and Daddy can go visit your grandma and grandfather on Vulcan, okay?"

"Do what, now?" McCoy asked with surprise. His daughter smiled and tossed her now short red hair. She had cut it to keep her brother's grabby hands from yanking on it.

"Miss Amanda gave me a call the other day. She and Sarek would like you to bring S'Brin up for his birthday."

McCoy leaned back in his chair and let out a long low whistle, his gaze darkening. He had been both dying to go to Vulcan and dreading ever seeing that desert world again since Spock left. When he tried to consol himself one evening by researching Kohlinar, thinking that he would see that it really was the answer Spock was looking for, he only ended up depressing himself further. Kohlinar wasn't just passions mastery, but the complete eradication of emotions and, in time, the self.

"You could have told me sooner."

Joanna frowned. "I know, but we've been so busy. You should go. It'll help you to get your mind off the wedding arrangements for a while."

"Wanna see gwandma and gwandfafa!" S'Brin chirped, clapping his tiny hands. Joanna plucked the ribbon out of his lap and McCoy lifted S'Brin out of the high chair before the boy could notice.

"Okay, we'll go see your grandparents."

S'Brin cheered and bounced in McCoy's arms.

McCoy grinned. "Let's go put up the Christmas tree, okay, Blue?"

"'Kay." S'Brin said, hugging his father's neck and nuzzling his beard. He giggled, "Your whiskers tickle!"

Joanna watched them head out to the living room. She knew how much her father needed a rest. The wedding arrangements were tough enough, but her mother wasn't making things any easier and neither were Simon's parents. Normally, her father would go out to his garden, but that was over at his new house, which was under renovation. He and S'Brin were staying with her and Simon in her apartment until the house was done. It was supposed to be done before Christmas. It was good for her dad, really, to have so much to occupy his mind, but once the wedding was over and the house finished, she knew his loneliness would set in. It hurt her to know that she would be happy with the man she loved while her father had no one but his two-year-old son.

He had never told her outright, but she knew how badly he missed Spock. She could hear it when he told S'Brin of the Enterprise's grand adventures. She could see it when she walked in on him sipping a brandy on the porch and looking up toward the stars. She could see it when he stroked S'Brin's ear while the baby slept. She didn't know if they had been lovers, but she did know her father loved Spock.

She shook her head sadly and looked at the ribbon in her hand. Slowly, a plan started to form in her mind. God only knew if it would work, but it couldn't hurt to try. A slow grin spread across Joanna's face as she reached for one of her blank invitations.

_Dear Mr. Spock,_

_You are cordially invited_

_to the wedding of_

_Miss Joanna Laurette McCoy_

_to_

_Mister Simon G. R. Simmons_

_on the_

_Twenty-third day of June, 2270_

_at 5:00pm. _

As she tied the red ribbon around the invitation, she made a silent prayer to God, the stars, the Great Bird of the Galaxy, anyone, that something, somewhere, would make her plan work.

And thousands of light years away, a probe set a course to Earth, searching for its creator.

-The End-


End file.
